Renesmee Starts School
by lovepotionsbrewer
Summary: The half-human member of the Cullen family finally has a chance to experience high school.  But, will being around so many humans be too much for her?  What happens when she starts to feel a connection to one particular human?
1. Chapter 1  A Family Discussion

**Disclaimer: _I don't own Twilight. Stephanie Meyer created and owns all of these characters, and gave them the vivid personalities and lives that continued on in my head after the last page of_ Breaking Dawn_. This is just my imagining of what might be in store for them a little further down the road..._**

_**This is my first foray into this kind of writing, so any pointers and constructive criticism is welcome!**_

Chapter 1: A Family Discussion

I kept both my hands and eyes on the single sheet of paper as the discussion around me grew steadily more intense. The course schedule for my first day of school at Hanover High had sparked deep concern from my family. Though it was literally my first day of school, most of the classes were junior Advanced Placement. Every class matched one on my aunt and uncle's schedules, with one exception.

"I thought we had this all covered," glared Rosalie. Though I was not looking at my beautiful aunt, I knew how her golden eyes would flash and how she was likely flipping her golden hair away from her perfect face. "Who was supposed to take Chemistry with her?"

"I thought she was taking Biology," said Emmett, who was by far the most relaxed of the eight vampires in the room. It was the first time he had spoken since it was discovered that there was a single class on my new schedule that another member of the Cullen family would not be taking with me.

"Are you taking Biology?" Rosalie asked.

"No," said Emmett, "I'm in something called 'Earth Science,' whatever that means."

"Then why would you mention that you thought she was taking Biology," she hissed back. She was clearly irritated with Emmett's lack of worry. Rose usually saved her disdain for anyone but her partner.

Just then, my dad spoke up, "I'm sure we can find a way to sort this out. We just need to shuffle a few things."

"Edward," replied my mother, "school starts tomorrow. Even if we can get it all figured out, she'll probably have to go to the class on her own for the day." I finally looked up, to see my mother's lovely face in a familiar expression of worry, a small crease in between the eyes that were once the same color as mine. Her eyes now matched my other relatives, gold or black depending on the day, but I had seen a few pictures when they were different. I was the only one with the deep chocolate eyes that never changed, though most of my physical appearance did alter, unlike theirs.

"It will be okay," chirped my aunt Alice. Despite the positive words, she had her hands on her temples, as she often did when she tried to divine my future. She could not see me directly, but by searching the paths of those who cared for me, she was able to alert the family to any danger. "We'll all keep our own schedules, and Nessie will be fine," Alice continued. "At least I don't see us moving on anytime before the end of the school year."

"But, who will look after her in Chemistry?" replied my mother, her flute voice shaking into some strange octaves I had never heard, showing her stress.

I took a step toward her, my hand outstretched, and then thought better of it. I wanted to show her how much I wanted this. I wanted a chance to be independent, even if it was for only one class that I probably understood better than the high school teacher did. I wanted to show her how I loved them all dearly, but wanted just one chance to be on my own. I wanted to show her how much it would mean to me if they trusted me to try.

However, if I was going to convince them that I could pass for human without any of their supervision, I'd better work on communicating in the normal way.

"I think I want to try this on my own." I said. My eyes traveled the room to take in each reaction. Alice smiled at me with understanding and relief. She understood what it was like to be an oddball even within our special family, and she was relieved that my decision explained the incomplete visions she was having. She could see my future as long as it was through the lens of a vampire's fate, or even a human she knew well. When I ventured off on my own, or with my best friend Jacob, I disappeared. However, over the years since I was born, she'd worked to accept that and develop a trust with me.

My parents had struggled harder to balance my desire for freedom with their worry for my safety and well-being. I suppose it was difficult for them. After all, I was only six years old chronologically. I physically looked about the same age as the vampires who had been frozen as teenagers. I knew I was intellectually far above most seventeen year olds from the various online tests I had taken before asking permission to attend high school. I had read thousands of books since the time I was a few months old.

However, there were things most teenagers experienced that were completely alien to me. Young adult fiction baffled me in a way that 'War and Peace' and even Mom's Jane Austen's books did not. I found the descriptions of teenage emotions so confusing that I didn't even dare to speak about it to Jake, to whom I confided almost everything. I couldn't remember ever wanting to keep a secret from Jake, but these feelings, the questions I was having were too hard to unravel. I couldn't even try to express them though touch, let alone words.

I realized that everyone was still staring at me, and I should make my case as best I could.

"Look," I started, holding my own hands together so I wouldn't be tempted to reach out and make my parents see. "I know what a risk you are all taking for me. I appreciate that and honor the chance to live up to that responsibility. I know that if I make a mistake..." I broke off for a second as the many possible mistakes ran through my mind. I could share a thought with someone with my touch; I could reveal my superhuman strength; I could say the wrong thing and reveal my relative's long history of attending many different high schools. So many ways to reveal the secret and by that give the Volturi an excuse to punish me; punish me and my whole family with death.

Or even worse, I could be overwhelmed with the smell of human blood and reveal us in a way that would not only put us in danger from the law keepers of our world, but also disappoint my vegetarian family by breaking our own most sacred rule: human life was sacred. I was risking the lives of every human I may encounter, and I was risking the lives of my family. I so wanted a chance to have a peek at normalcy, I was willing to risk it all.

I pushed on, "I know if I make a mistake, we'd all suffer the consequences. But I'm sure I could keep myself in control before I did anything too dangerous." I looked at the sympathy in the eight pairs of eyes that were focused on me. "All right," I admitted, "I can't know that. But I really feel that I can make this work. Give me one day, and if you aren't all satisfied with my performance, then we can go to the backup plan and live in the woods of Canada near Tanya and Kate for a few years. Just please, let me try this."

I looked back at the piece of paper. The class that had caused all this concern was the final period of the day. "Alice and I have music theory right before I go off to Chemistry on my own," I reported. "If I'm not 100% sure I can make it through, she and I will come home sick and we'll figure out what to do at the end of the day. Just please, please let me try."

I realized as I finished that it was probably the longest speech I had ever made aloud. My family realized it as well. I watched my Dad's face as he processed his own thoughts while listening to the others. After a few minutes, he smiled.

I knew I'd have a chance to be a high school student, even if it was for only one day. There was going to be one class where I would not be babysat by a parent, aunt, or uncle.


	2. Chapter 2  First Day

Chapter 2: First Day

I had woken up at dawn and the hours between that time and my first class at 8:00 a.m. seemed the longest of my life. Rosalie, who of course did not sleep at all (none of my family slept besides me), had lain out five different outfits for me to choose from for the first day of school. She and Alice bickered over which was the best choice, while I looked at each in dismay. They were beautiful, of course, but they were all too trendy and flashy compared to the images I had seen of students on the high school's website.

Then came the discussion of the car pool. Rosalie and Emmett didn't see anything wrong with Mom and Dad taking me in Mom's Ferrari. They argued that even if it was a very expensive sports car, it was seven years old now, and wouldn't attract too much attention. I doubted this very much. I wished that I had been able to talk them into buying a used car at one of the many lots in the nearby towns, which I pointed out were all Ferrari-less. Finally, the discussion ended with the decision for all of us to pile into the Suburban, which was neither flashy nor fast, but had seating for all of us. I argued it was the most likely choice a human family would make if there were seven children to get to school.

I was relieved that the car didn't stand out too horribly, but was unpleasantly surprised that as soon as we entered the building, it seemed we were.

"Can they smell us?" I muttered as quietly as I could to my mother, who also had some trouble with attention, even though she was a vampire and staring from humans pretty much came with the territory.

"Of course not, dear." she said, giving my hand a quick squeeze with her cold strong grip. "Humans don't rely on smell, they rely on sight. Unfortunately, the seven of us together are probably not like anything they've seen in a while. It will be easier when we break up and go to class."

"Don't worry, Ness," Dad spoke out of the side of his mouth. "No one is thinking anything much besides 'wow'." He smiled crookedly at mom, and I quickly turned away so as not to be caught in their mushiness. It was okay when they did that at home, but I thought they'd be a little less open about their feelings for each other in public, around humans.

Just then I noticed that many of the male humans who had been ogling my mom - seriously, how gross is that - noticed the way she and my dad were looking at each other and started frowning. Oh, I get it. My family wasn't forgetting about the need to be discreet, they were consciously sending a message to any would-be suitors. Of course, that left me as the odd one out, again. I could feel the dozens of eyes turning on me.

Though Dad assured me that they couldn't smell us, I could certainly smell them. I had prepared myself for the temptation of a smorgasbord of human blood swirling around me. After all that had been the biggest concern about me attending school for the first time. Could I control my thirst? It turned out to be a lot easier than I thought. I had read and heard radio pieces about schools that had banned the use of scented deodorants and body sprays. I was secretly glad Hanover High had not made that policy decision, yet. Though the various scents were overwhelming, they were also entirely unappetizing. I felt more like running away from all that cologne and perfume than getting any closer to the throats and pulses of these rudely staring students.

Even more unappetizing were the looks I was getting. For some reason every girl we passed glared at me as if I had done something horrible to her. The boys either had their mouths hanging open in idiotic fashion, or were straining their muscles as if they thought they could look like Uncle Emmett if they clenched hard enough. Some smiled at me as if we knew each other, and it made me very uneasy. I didn't want to have to talk to many humans my first day, I was hoping I'd have a chance to silently take it all in and be in the background. I was starting to realize this was a foolish hope on my part.

Just then, we walked by the one person who didn't seem to be staring at us. Instead, this brown-haired boy with thick glasses was standing by one of the crank windows along the long Plexiglas hallway. As the breeze flowed into the school, I caught the first scent of human that was not masked behind products that were supposed to make them smell more appealing, but luckily had the opposite effect on me. I turned my head without thinking about it, more because I was relieved by the purity of his scent than by a thirst for his blood. It was the first student I smelled that didn't make me uneasy. I looked just long enough to notice his too-long hair was a little greasy, and his clothes were the kinds of things that Alice would have had nightmares about, had she ever slept.

"First class is this way, Ness," said Uncle Jasper.

My head snapped toward him, perhaps too quickly, as the others tensed and looked around to gauge the reactions of the humans in the area. Had I done something wrong? I hadn't even thought about relieving my thirst, really. Though I realized even small things were a big deal today.

I would have to be more careful to stand upwind of anyone who looked like this human - someone who looked like they didn't try very hard to keep themselves clean or cover up their natural scents.  
>It was time for my first class as a human.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3 Morning Drifts to Afternoon

Chapter 3: Morning Drifts to Afternoon

The morning of classes had passed without any major incidents, though each class was in its own way both exciting and horribly boring.

The syllabus Mom, Dad, and I received in English revealed a rather uninspired mix of classics that I had read when I was less than a year old. I supposed it would be interesting to hear what the humans thought of _Romeo and Juliet_, _Animal Farm_, and _A Tale of Two Cities_, but I didn't think there was much new for me to discover in those works, or any of the poems and short stories we were going to study. I was surprised that a few of the students complained about the heavy workload. I knew that many humans were not interested in reading, but I hadn't expected that in an AP class.

Next was Pre-Calculus with Rose and Emmett. The teacher barely looked at the students lined in desks in front of him, but drew out various equations on the blackboard, sending out a plume of chalk dust, which I breathed in as a relief from the mix of perfumes and body sprays that saturated the room. Unfortunately, the lack of a supervisional focus from the front of the class left many of the students to seem confused, and eventually bored with what the teacher was trying to get through to us. By about twenty minutes in, most had turned away from the blackboard and were openly staring at my aunt, my uncle, and me, who had taken seats in the back left-hand side of the room.

Rose and Emmett played their parts well, doodling in their notebooks, occasionally glancing at the teacher, but more often staring at each other and holding hands underneath each other's desks. Occasionally they would look at me, Rose smiling gently as if to say, "I told you this was going to be disappointing." Emmett was winking at me in encouragement as I shifted under the bold gazes of the humans.

I wished I had someone's hand to hold as a defense against the lusty gazes of the males and jealous dagger-eyes I was being thrown by the females. I wished Jake had been able to come to school with us, too. I was sure he'd have a way to make it fun, a game he could make out of all these strange human reactions, or maybe he'd even be willing to pretend he was my boyfriend.

I giggled to myself at that thought - Jake and me pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Unfortunately, that got the attention of not only the rest of the class but the teacher.

"Well, Miss..." He frowned at me and then reached for the attendance sheet in an effort to remember my name. Seriously, he had just taken attendance a few minutes ago, and he couldn't remember his student's name. Were all humans so inconsiderate and forgetful of each other?

"Miss Cullen," he continued. "Perhaps you can help us find the value of 'x'. He smiled a little too conceitedly, sure that he had found a way to embarrass me as punishment for having another thought while he droned though the rather simple equation.

I put on the most serious face I could, looking at the blackboard rather than his blood-flushed face. "Sixty-one," I answered. The teacher's cheeks went even redder, as if he was angrier that I had gotten the answer right then if I had been unable to perform the equation.

He turned his back to us again and continued, while the class laughed quietly. A few of the boys shot me thumbs up, but I ignored them. Rose and Emmett looked concerned. It was a mistake to draw this much attention, especially on the first day. I spent the rest of class looking only at the blackboard and my notebook, where I diligently copied the figures the teacher was working his way though at a human pace. It was frustratingly slow and boring.

The rest of the morning was much of the same - a history class with Mom and Dad again, a music theory with Alice and Jasper. Then all of us convened in the lunchroom and carried our trays to an empty table. Many of the humans looked at us, but none dared to take an empty seat near us.

"How are you feeling, Nessie?" my Mom asked, the small crease forming in her perfect porcelain forehead over her golden eyes.

"Fine," I replied. "A little bored with the classes and all the staring, but it's easier than I thought to not be thirsty." I pushed a tater tot around the tray in front of me, thinking it smelled about as appetizing as most of the chemical-drenched humans I had encountered over the course of the day. Luckily almost all the humans I encountered chose to hide their scents - only the one dark-haired boy with glasses I passed early that morning smelled at all appealing. It would be easy enough to avoid him; I was sure.

I looked up at Dad who was of course reading my thoughts. He looked briefly concerned, but as Aunt Alice was also sending him the information she had about our futures, he quickly relaxed his features and smiled at me, while squeezing Mom's hand. "You're doing exceptionally well," he told me. "We're all very proud of you, Ness."  
>"Yeah," said Uncle Emmett, "we're proud, even if I was hoping you might give us a reason to move on and stay out of school for a while. Seriously, kid, see what I mean about this being the most boring experience?" He winked at me across the table.<p>

I sighed, but didn't reply. It did seem like I had built this all up in my mind, only to be disappointed. The information in classes was all so elementary, and I couldn't observe the humans the way I wanted to, because their constant attention toward me and my family meant they would surely notice my studying them. Again, I thought briefly of that one boy who hadn't stared and wondered what it was about him that made his reactions so different.

"Nessie will be fine," Alice suddenly chirped. I realized that she and Dad had been having one of their silent conversations, and she had chosen to share the outcome of her searching the future for any major changes for the family after the rest of day.

I sighed again as I realized the next class after lunch was the one I had been so looking forward to: Chemistry. The one class I got to take without a family member to watch over me. I was thankful that it truly did seem I had nothing to worry about in terms of exposing my family, but I was also doubtful there would be anything particularly exciting about another class with staring humans and an indifferent teacher. 


	4. Chapter 4  Chemistry Class

Chapter 4: Chemistry Class

My family decided to walk me to Chemistry, which was as excruciating as I imagined. The seven of us together seemed to create roadblocks every step of the way throughout the hallway. I whispered to them that our slow progress would surely mean they would be late to their own classes, but they didn't seem to care. About halfway there, Alice started rubbing her temples, a sign she was giving herself a headache by trying to see around the blind spots I created in her vision of the future. If they wanted to make it easier for me to be on my own for the first time, they at least made me look forward to it a lot more.

By the time we got to the classroom, which was two floors above the cafeteria and on the opposite side of the building, pretty much the entire rest of the class was settled. I took a deep breath as I walked into the room and searched for the best place to sit. The room was arranged with simple lab benches that each had two chairs and a few antiquated pieces of equipment.

I caught looks of disappointment from many of the males when they realized I was standing at the door looking for an empty seat, while the one next to them was taken. Luckily, there was a completely empty table right next to the teacher's desk. I sank gratefully into one of the chairs next to it, and hoped that the other would remain empty.

Unfortunately, the teacher had other plans. Before he even took the roll, he explained that each student would need a lab partner for the semester, as we would be performing a series of independent labs to teach ourselves the basics of how elements reacted to each other. I could feel the eyes focused on my empty seat and me. I thought that even though he was several doors away my Dad would be able to hear the eager thoughts of the boys who were hoping to take that seat next to me. But, they all had partners already, I thought to myself. Maybe I could convince the teacher that I could work alone - perhaps. I should make up a story about another school where I already studied Chemistry.

"It seems we have two students without partners." The teacher smiled at me sympathetically, as if he could also read my silent wish to work alone. "George, why don't you come down here and take the seat next to..." he looked down at his attendance sheet, "Vanessa Cullen."

I looked around, surprised that I hadn't noticed the other empty seat, though I had admittedly been focused on the solitary table and ignoring the rest of the class. My mouth fell open and my heart sank as I saw who George was. It was the strange boy I had noticed earlier. Though I had no venom like the rest of my family, my mouth watered slightly as I watched him frown and pick up his books to make his way toward my, now our, table. He caught me staring and scowled at me. I quickly turned toward the teacher again, petrified by my own reaction. What would I give away if I were forced to work alongside this human for an entire semester? But, wouldn't it be obvious - and even rude - to try and switch for another partner? What was I going to do?

I would simply have to rise above my thirst. Human life was sacred, and I had no desire to hurt anyone. I would just have to do my best to treat this George like we were both normal teenagers. If only I had a better idea how to be a normal teenager myself!

"Hi," I said to him shyly as he dropped his huge book bag on the floor and plopped into the seat next to me. He didn't reply, except for a small grunt as he went about arranging his notebook, pencil, and pen on the desktop. I heard a few murmurs from the rest of the class. I wasn't the only one surprised by his less than friendly reaction to me. Had I done something wrong? Had he realized that he was the last person in the entire school I would have chosen to have to work with? I blushed in shame at my own rudeness. I would have to try harder to be nice.

The teacher explained that for the first few classes we would be working from our textbooks and doing exercises on paper, including signing a safety agreement, before moving onto the lab experiments. In a few weeks, the classroom would be set up with a series of stations that each set of partners would rotate through until all the students had performed each lab. He wrote out the page numbers he wanted us to read, the problems we had to solve, and then started distributing a stack of papers on his desk.

I looked up briefly as he handed me the lab safety agreement. It explained where the fire extinguisher was and what to do if acid spilled or a glass broke. There was a line where we were to sign promising we had read and understood. It all seemed a little silly to me, as did the chapter on how to use a microscope and the names and uses of various pieces of lab equipment. I noticed that most of the students were taking a lot more time to read than I had, so I hesitated before writing out the answers to the assigned questions.

Suddenly, I was assailed by the undiluted scent of human as George slid a piece of paper across the desk toward me, though thankfully he kept his arm a good foot away from me, and his chair was as far from me as it could be at the small table we shared. "Here," he said, gruffly, not making eye contact.

I looked down at the paper, as he whipped his hand back. The blue and white lines were filled with tight cursive. I couldn't concentrate on what he had written for a moment, as my throat constricted from the delicious scent he had created with the brief wave of his arm. I closed my eyes and reminded myself that all human life was sacred; that George was probably a kind person with much to contribute to the world.

When I opened my eyes, I realized that the paper contained the answers to the questions we had been assigned. "Oh," I said, a little embarrassed that I had overestimated the pause I should take before doing that work myself. I looked around the room and was relieved that I was not the last one to finish. In fact, it seemed only a few had started on the questions, no one besides my partner was finished.

"Did you want me to check your work?" I asked, looking George straight in the face for the first time.

He seemed embarrassed that I was looking at him, though I couldn't imagine why a blush was creeping across his face. Humans did look at each other when they talked, didn't they? Was he nervous that he had gotten the questions wrong in his haste?

"You don't need to check it," he answered, frowning. "You can copy it if you want."

"I don't need to do that," I said, a little affronted. Rosalie had warned me that some humans assumed that females couldn't be beautiful and smart at the same time. In fact, Jake liked to say jokes about her intelligence, but that was all just humor. No one could actually believe that someone had no intellect because of how they looked, could they?

George looked surprised and a little dubious. I frowned at him and pushed his paper away, then pulled out a fresh piece of paper from my own notebook. I studiously ignored him while going about answering the questions, not only with the answers about general theories, but also with some precise examples of how those theories could be observed in the real world. I was overdoing it, of course, and probably writing faster than I should, but he had made me angry. It wasn't an emotion I had much experience with, and I was disturbed with how it made my heart pulse and my hand tighten around my pencil.

I realized I should slow myself down, even though there was still plenty of time in class. I watched my hand move over the paper while focusing hard on slowing my breath. I tried to tell myself that he had probably not even meant to insult me, but I was still insulted.

Finally, I finished and looked up at George. He had crossed his hands over his own paper, and was staring down at his twirling thumbs. He was blushing and refusing to look at me, though he was obviously paying attention to the fact I had finished. "I'm sorry," he whispered out of the side of his mouth, and blushed again.

I gasped a little at the rashness of my reaction, and looked down at my paper. I realized I shouldn't have gone as overboard as I did. My family told me it was natural to get good grades, but we should be careful to not be the best in any class - it was unfair to the humans who had to try harder to get to the top. I wondered if I could redo it, but surely, George would notice and wouldn't that be more obvious? I hadn't realized the many dangers of exposure he would open me up to.

Chemistry was going to be a much harder subject than I expected.


	5. Chapter 5 Jake Will Understand

Chapter 5: Jake Will Understand

**Here's the next chapter. If anyone is willing to be a beta for me, I'd be forever grateful. I'm so new to this fanfiction stuff that I don't even know how to ask. Help!**

_Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all the characters. _

"There's nothing wrong with being smart, Ness," Jake said as he leapt over the small chasm and bubbling brook in the woods behind the New Hampshire house. I wasn't really thirsty, but I had been keyed up all night. Jake, as usual, had a way of knowing what would make me feel better and suggested we go hunting.

I had just admitted my mistake of going overboard in Chemistry class to him, hoping that he could help me come up with a way to talk about it with the rest of my family. It was important that they know about the possible exposure I had subjected myself, and therefore all of us. Dad of course knew the whole story, as I couldn't stop thinking over the details of my interaction with George on our car ride home. He kept his face passive so as not to alert the rest, but I knew he wanted me to talk about it. He didn't believe in secrets, especially from my Mom. I rolled my eyes at the thought of how gooey they were with each other. Some teenagers actually had a hope of confiding in one parent without the other knowing immediately. I didn't have that luxury. Then again, I reminded myself, I wasn't technically a teenager, either.

"I know there's nothing wrong with being smart, but there's nothing wrong with not being the smartest, either." It felt better running through the woods as we talked this through. Though my heart was beating slightly faster than normal, my breath was unaffected and it was easy to speak naturally as we ran.

"I didn't think I had such a fragile ego," I continued. "It shouldn't matter what a human thinks about me, whether he thinks I'm smart or not. I just couldn't understand it. Did he think that I didn't have a brain because of how I looked?" I didn't need to look at Jake to know he was focused on me as the trees flew by us and the wind swept my hair out behind me. I didn't have to see his deep brown eyes staring at me, taking in all the stress I felt, wishing he could make it all go away for me. He was such a good friend.

"Looks don't have anything to do with brains," he said, knowing it was what I wanted to hear.

I stopped suddenly, and looked at him directly for the first time. "If that's true, why do you always make those jokes about Aunt Rosalie?" It had been bothering me for a while, though Jake had always made rude comments about my beautiful aunt's intelligence - long before I was born, in fact.

Jake stopped just as suddenly a half step away from me. He raised his arms for a moment as if he was going to crush me toward his body in one of his famous bear hugs, but my expression made him stop. His face turned serious, as he replied, "I'll stop saying those things about Blon– I mean, Rosalie - if you don't like it."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "I just asked you why you make those jokes. I wasn't telling you what to do."  
>He smiled, obviously relieved that he could still take advantage of Rosalie. Usually that mischievous smile made me want to share in his happy-go-lucky mood, but seeing it just then irritated me. Maybe Jake had spoiled me by always doing what I wanted to do and reacting to my stories the way I wanted him to. I had thought spending time with him would have helped prepare me for interacting with human teenagers. I was beginning to realize just how different my werewolf best friend was from the humans I had to go to school with. Then again, there was something similar in his expression to many of the boys; I just wasn't sure what it was.<p>

"I think there are some deer just past that stand of trees," Jake said, starting to step out of his shorts so that he could phase and help me bring down our prey.

"Stop!" I shouted so suddenly I surprised myself. I wasn't sure if it was the less-than-appealing smell of animal blood on the breeze or the thought that just suddenly shot through my mind. My stomach twisted and I couldn't bear the thought of quenching the little thirst I presently had. I don't know why it upset me, but I had this disturbing reaction just as the words formed in my mind - my friend Jake was getting naked.

I had never really thought about it one way or the other. It was completely natural that he slips out of his clothes before transforming into the beautiful russet wolf he could become when he hunted with me. But for the first time, I had a feeling that it was wrong for me to see him as he phased. The shock of the change in my mind made me a little dizzy. I sat down on a nearby boulder and put my head in my arms to close my eyes and wait for the sensation to pass.

"Nessie, what's wrong?" asked Jake, wrapping his arms around me. His warmth enveloped me, along with his slight animal scent. I tried to steady myself by breathing him in quietly for a while. His smell was like Jake himself: warm, friendly, comfortable, and familiar.

I lifted my head and smiled at him. His tense expression melted immediately as he smiled back.

"Nothing's wrong," I said. He believed me, of course. But, I could tell he wanted me to tell him more. I placed my palm on his hot cheek and let my mind try to untangle itself as he watched my thoughts. A low growl formed in the back of his throat at the sight of the cocky smiles of some of the boys I remembered. Then I remembered George and his appealing, natural, and yet-out-of-the-ordinary appearance and scent.

Jake's eyes widened and suddenly he jumped back, landing a few feet away from me. We both stared at each other as if we had been slapped. Though I do not know if either of us had any idea who hurt who, I was sure the pain on his face was reflected on mine.

"What's wrong," I asked, when I could form the words. I didn't dare reach out to him again to communicate in my more comfortable way.

Jake was breathing hard. I thought for a moment he was going to phase involuntarily. I had never seen him lose control like that, but he had told me it had happened to him before when he had been very upset. He closed his eyes and I could see the muscles of his jaw and shoulder tense as he tried to control his thoughts.

"Nothing's wrong, Nessie," he said.

Why would he lie to me like that? I could tell something I thought had bothered him. Why wouldn't he tell me what it was? I tried to guess. "Are you upset that boy was mean to me?" I asked.

He wouldn't look at me. "Something like that," he said.

"Jake," I went on. "Please talk to me. I can tell you're really bothered. I've never seen you react to anything like that. You almost phased!"

He nodded. I was shocked that he admitted it.

"Have you ever phased without wanting to?" I asked, quietly.

"Not since . . ." he choked over the end of his sentence. It looked like I imagined he had when he wasn't an Alpha, when he had been forced to hide something because Sam had forbidden him.

"Not since you became the leader of your own pack?" I asked, hoping I could lead him to sharing the truth with me. He nodded no. "Not since when, then?" I asked, stomping my foot in frustration. "I want to know."  
>He opened my eyes at the vibration of my foot stamping the ground, and a small smile appeared on his still tense face. "Not since I had to protect your Mom from Paul." I didn't say anything as I tried to remember either of them telling me that story. It must have been a very long time ago. "She stamped her foot at me like you just did, once." There was something strange in Jake's face as he said this. For a moment, he didn't look like my Jacob, but a stranger. An odd mix of happiness and pain danced around his features for a moment, and then disappeared as he fixed his gaze on my face.<p>

It didn't make any sense. It was almost as frustrating as the memory of Chemistry class.

Jake smiled and then stepped behind a tree to take off his clothes. I was still puzzling over my very strange day when the big wolf came around the tree and licked my face. He then leapt away from me and crouched down into a hunting stretch.

"Okay," I said. "Let's get some dinner and then get back home." I realized my family was probably getting worried since we had been gone longer than we intended. They all knew it had been a big day for me, so I hoped I wouldn't have to answer too many questions before I could excuse myself for the activity only I could do - sleep.


	6. Chapter 6 A Private Dream

Chapter 6: A Private Dream

When I woke up the next morning, my mom was sitting with me on the bed. My eyes focused on her beautiful face as the sun rose in the windows behind her.

"Good morning, mom," I yawned and stretched. It was about five a.m., so I was in no rush to get up and get ready for school. In some ways, I was dreading it as I imagined most of my classmates did, though I was fairly sure my reasons were unique.

Mom quickly rearranged her features. Though I could tell she was trying hard not to look worried, the small crease on her porcelain forehead remained. Had something happened over the course of the night?  
>She smiled at me, and responded in a voice that gave away a hint of stress, "Good morning, dear." She placed my hand back on the soft bedspread, then pushed a stray lock of curls away from my face and kissed my cheek. Even her lips seemed tense.<p>

"What's wrong?" I asked jumping up so suddenly she blurred as she spun with me up and away from the bed. We stood staring at each other as I tried to guess what was happening, "Did Aunt Alice see something coming? Is it the Volturi? Did Jake get hurt? What?"

"It's nothing, nothing, dear," Mom tried to soothe me. Dad and Jasper walked in and I felt the wave of calm emanate from my uncle as my dad glanced between my mother and me. Of course, he could only hear my concern and questions, and none of her explanations, so he soon appeared as worried as I was.

"What's going on," he asked.

Mom looked embarrassed. She was the only vampire I had ever met who fidgeted without it being an act to fit in with humans. She clasped her hands together and shifted her weight a few times before saying anything. "I feel I owe you an apology, Nessie," she said. "I was just watching your dreams, and I saw something I didn't understand."

"What?" I asked. Again, I could only imagine something bad happening to our family or friends. Had I begun to have visions of the future, like Alice? I knew that she would sometimes sit and watch my dreams by placing my hand against her face as I slept. I could remember waking and seeing her smile at me as my mind shifted out from unconsciousness many times since I was born, though it didn't happen every night. I knew she had a life besides me, so I didn't expect her to sit with me as I dreamed all the time.

"It's nothing," Mom went on. "But, your dreams should be private, Ness. I don't need to know what your dream was about. It's not like with your Dad hearing people's thoughts when they're awake, it was a conscious act on my part, and no one should read someone else's dreams."

"Mom," I interrupted, "I don't care if you look at my dreams." It was true. I couldn't remember ever having a thought, conscious or unconscious that I wanted to keep from any member of my family. The only time I had ever had to try to keep a secret was that horrible day when the Volturi had appeared to accuse my family of creating an immortal child. Was that it - had I been reliving that confrontation with those monstrous vampires from Italy?

"Did I have a nightmare that upset you," I asked my mother.

Mom shook her head. I could tell she wanted to end this conversation quickly. Though, as she had basically said, privacy and secrets weren't exactly easy to come by in this house. The silence throughout the house told me that the other's ears were open and I guessed I wasn't the only one confused by what she was saying. Since Mom was the only one who could keep secrets from Dad, I had a feeling we were all going to stay confused.

The family dispersed quickly after that, and our school day routine was followed without any aberration. We went to our classes, and I didn't feel anyone was keeping tabs on me more than usual. I had learned how to fit in as well as the rest of my family by performing well in classes, but not to the extent that we were threatening to the intellect of the teachers or the pride of the fellow students. No one implied that I should stay home, or skip the one class on my own, which was a relief.

However, I was distracted the rest of the morning, trying to remember my dream. Years ago, Mom had tried to describe to me what it was like for her to watch my thoughts as I slept. She explained that it wasn't like when people talk about dreams in movies and books - where it's basically like a story even if there are things you dream that can't happen in real life. My dreams were more like kaleidoscopes - the images and feelings I had swirling together in a beautiful non-pattern. It sounded like it could have gotten boring after awhile. So although I found it strange that she had sometimes liked to watch my thoughts while I slept, it had never bothered me. I never would have thought of them as private.

I wondered if Mom's reaction to my dream had anything to do with the way Jake had freaked out when I told him about my first day of school. I had tried to push that memory away in the past weeks. Perhaps it had come back to my mind while I was asleep, and Mom was sorry she had seen something, the way Jake had seemed troubled by what I showed him.

Could I have dreamed about George? Was Mom upset that a human face was in my dreams? That must be it. I had fallen asleep somewhat nervous about us working together in Chemistry class, and Mom must have seen George in my mind and gotten a hint of the strange feelings I had whenever I tried to make sense of this human boy. I wasn't sure how to even describe how I felt when I was around George or thinking of him - nervousness wasn't quite the word, but it was close.

Perhaps Mom was worried that being around George was making me thirsty. It's true; the scent of his blood, combined only with a certain woodsiness that was unique to George, was much more appetizing than any of the other humans I had encountered. I knew it was wrong to drink human blood (unless it was donated, of course). It seemed far easier for me to not think about drinking George's blood than for many of the girls in school to not talk about chocolate or any of the other stuff they were supposed to stay away from.

I was still puzzling over George and the possibility I may have dreamed about him later that day as the family floated together into the cafeteria. I wondered if it might ease some of the tension that I could still see in my mother if I asked her directly if he had been in my dream. But, I hadn't yet talked about him with any of my family. I'd been a little afraid to after Jake's reaction to my thoughts. And I didn't want to draw their attention to him. He seemed to dislike attention, and my family's gaze seemed to make any human nervous.

My dad's gentle whisper broke my train of thought. "Are you okay to finish classes today, Ness?" He was looking at me, and Jasper and Alice had their eyes focused on him. I had a feeling they were both sending him thoughts that had prompted the question. Jasper had surely sensed my mood, but what had Alice seen?

I decided I couldn't take the beating around the bush anymore. I turned to Alice, "What do you think?" I asked her. "Do you see something we should be concerned about?"

Alice frowned. "It could have nothing to do with you, Ness," she said, though I had a feeling she was just starting that way to ease my feelings. "But, I do see that there's going to be some excitement soon."

What on earth did that mean? I couldn't take it anymore. I reached out and touched my Dad's cheek. I thought about my talk with Mom this morning and replayed Alice's comment, allowing my frustration and confusion to have free reign in my thoughts. It wasn't something I usually ever had to do, but I wanted to make sure I had his attention over the many other voices around our table. Is something wrong? I thought.

Dad's mouth formed his crooked smile. "Do you want to finish your classes today, Ness?" he asked.

"Of course I do," I said in return.

I dropped my hand and glanced around, wondering if anyone had seen this. Not that any human would know what I had been doing, it just wasn't a gesture that you saw often between two people. There were plenty of eyes turned toward us, but none seemed more bewildered than usual. As I roved over the many faces, my gaze stopped for a brief moment on the deep brown eyes of George. He was looking at me! But just as quickly as I caught his glance, he looked away. Most people smiled or even waved when our gazes met.

As frustrating as it was to deal with this human, I realized I wanted very much to go to chemistry class. Though I knew it was probably a foolish hope, perhaps working with George on our labs might make some of this strange tension I felt when I thought about him go away.

I turned back to the table and saw my mom had followed my gaze and she had seen George and my eyes meet. She smiled at me, and the others exchanged confused glances between themselves.

It was Aunt Alice who spoke, and though her words were as cryptic as ever, they were also comforting. "Have a good class," she said. "We'll all talk more about this later tonight." 


	7. Chapter 7 Extra Credit

Chapter 7: A Simple Assignment

Though I was sure I saw George leaving the cafeteria a few moments before my family rose from our table, the lab bench we shared was empty when I entered the classroom. I took my seat and got out the notebook I had set up for Chemistry, as well as a pencil and pen. I realized I was fidgeting without thinking about it. I must be getting good at pretending to be a human, to be unconsciously moving without needing to the way they did.

The other students were still wandering in when the teacher, Mr. McKnight, entered. I noticed he was making a beeline for me. Uh-oh. I was sure he was going to say something about my overzealous efforts on the assignment from our last class. I was right.

"Vanessa," he started, "I'd like to speak with you and George for a few moments before class starts." He smiled broadly at me. I tried to return the smile because that was what the family had said to do when someone smiled. But his words made it difficult to arrange my face that way. Why did he want to talk to both of us?

"He must be running late," the teacher went on, seemingly surprised by George's tardiness. I couldn't be anything but relieved that I had a few extra moments. "Just make sure you both speak to me before you leave, okay?" He was practically beaming at me, so I didn't have the heart to argue.

As the teacher walked away, I could hear the two boys at the table behind me shift in their seats. "I know how you feel," one of them said. I turned my head slightly and was surprised to see that he was looking like me. Had he been talking to me? How on earth could he know how I feel?

"It's a drag you got stuck with that loser," the boy went on.

"Yeah," his partner chimed in. "No one wants to be stuck with the Slav."

"Is that George's nickname?" I asked. Perhaps I could ease some of the frostiness between us if I called him what he preferred. Although I thought that was an odd choice.

The two boys looked at each other and smirked in that way that was beginning to be a little too familiar on the faces of humans when I made the mistake of paying too much attention to them. I realized I should cut the conversation off as soon as possible, not just because class would be starting soon. But I was too tempted to learn something about George that might help me relate to him a little easier. They were looking back at me now, but neither seemed about to answer my question. "What are you talking about?" I asked, more forcefully.

"It's just too bad," said the one that had first spoken. "You're stuck with the kid with the funny accent and doesn't know how to shower. It's gotta be hard for you to sit next to him, but at least you have an excuse not to talk to him. Even McKnight knows no one can understand a word he says."

Just then, George walked in. He was exactly a minute late, which the teacher seemed to notice, but as there were still a few students who hadn't yet arrived, he didn't make a big deal about it. He did start, however, talking to the class as soon as George had taken his seat next to me.

I only half-listened to the review of yesterday's assignments and the instructions he was giving for the labs we would start today.

The boys' words were buzzing in my mind. I had of course noticed that George smelled differently from the other students. I now realized I was supposed to find this unpleasant, rather than the opposite. I had also slipped in my efforts to appear human by missing that he spoke differently, though in my defense he hadn't said much for me to discern the accent the others had referred to.

I didn't get many opportunities to listen for what I was supposed to have noticed for the rest of the class, either. After we received yesterday's papers back (I gulped as I saw the many checks and stars next to my answers - it was clear the teacher had been surprised by my extra efforts), the teacher explained that we'd be starting labs. There were fifteen stations set up at different areas of the classroom and directions for us to follow at each station. He then pointed to each pair of partners, calling out the number of the lab they should go to. However, when he got to George and I, instead of just saying the next number, he said, "We're going to talk."

The two of us sat motionless as the rest of the class slid back away from the tables and headed off to their assigned labs. Mr. McKnight watched to make sure everyone understood where they were starting, then walked up to us and smiled again.

"I'm sure both of you will have no trouble with this circuit of labs, so I was thinking you might like a little extra credit project," he said.

Oh dear, I thought. Doing extra credit sounded like calling attention to myself, but refusing to do it would also raise questions, at least from the teacher.

"Do we have to do it together?" George asked, without making the smallest glance at me.

It was the longest string of words I had heard him form. And, now that I had been alerted to it, I could hear a little difference between his voice and the others. It was slightly rougher, with some of the syllables emphasized slightly differently than most of the human's I heard. However, I realized, it was probably much more similar to any other students than my family's voice or me when we spoke naturally. While his was slightly rougher, ours was definitely more musical and crisp.

"I think that would be best," Mr. McKnight answered. I couldn't help frowning slightly, and from the corner of my eye, I could see George doing the same. "The school board's putting a lot of emphasis on group work, and since this would technically require some extra resources on my part, it would be a much easier sell if I could tell them the two most advanced students were working together." He smiled, imagining the compliment would be all we would focus on, when of course all I could think of is how difficult it would be to work more with George.

"It will require a little time outside of class, too," Mr. McKnight went on. "I think you should enter Siemens Competition. It's a national competition, and you could win a scholarship." He paused, "Of course, there are no guarantees, but if you did win it could make a huge difference in college."

His sell was of course lost on me, since I knew I wouldn't be going to college in the usual way. If my family and I decided it was a good idea to get a degree somewhere, we wouldn't be using my transcripts from Bangor High. We'd probably make up new identities, and there wouldn't be any need for a scholarship.

I tried to think of a way to say no, but before I could, Mr. McKnight had walked away. I glanced at George, expecting his scowl to be in place. I was surprised to see he looked excited and even hopeful. He looked at me, and asked, "Would you like to try?"

I was so flustered by his direct gaze and his question that all I could do was shrug my shoulders.  
>He frowned at me, "I guess you probably don't need a scholarship."<p>

I had just thought that myself, but his words irritated me. It was as if he was implying there was something wrong with having the money to pay for college without help.

Mr. McKnight returned, holding two thick folders that I had guessed were applications and background forms. George spoke to the teacher without glancing at me again, "It would be much better for me to do an independent project. We don't live near each other, and it will be hard to coordinate schedules."

"It won't be a problem," I said quickly. Though I wasn't sure why, I suddenly realized that I wanted to do something nice for George. Perhaps it would draw a little attention to me, and of course, it would be unfair of me to keep the scholarship money if we won. Nevertheless, I realized winning would probably mean a lot to George. I was sure the family lawyer could find a way to give my part of the money back or make a scholarship to make up for the one I might take away from a deserving human.

I turned to George, inhaling through my mouth to lessen the effect of the scent of his blood. "I don't mind working around your schedule, and I can come to your place when we need to study outside of school."

I thought he would be pleased, but at my suggestion George turned scarlet and the air between us warmed from his heated blood. I could hear his heart race. "I don't think that would work, either," he said.

Though my skin would never redden like his, I was sure I blushed a bit, too. I realized it was rude to invite myself into someone else's home. "We could work at my place, if you'd prefer."

"I don't really have a way to get there," he still looked uncomfortable, though his blush faded a bit.

"I'm sure my family could work out a car pool. This sounds like a great opportunity, so I'm sure they'd understand. My dad would be happy to drive us." I froze as soon as the words left my mouth. What a stupid thing that had been to say. I had of course been thinking of my actual dad, who I was supposed to refer to as my brother. Luckily, neither George nor the teacher realized that, they assumed I was talking about Carlisle. I went on trying to cover, "most of my siblings drive, and I'll be getting my license, soon. It won't be a big deal."

George stared at me and I stared back. I imagined all the ways that this could go horribly wrong, and for a moment, I thought for sure that he would come up with another reason to refuse. Instead, he got up and walked to the lab station that we were supposed to start. I followed him, resolved not to say anything else that didn't pertain to the work we had in front of us. It was his business if he didn't want to try for the scholarship, and of course, it made no difference to me.

We were halfway through the lab when I heard him quietly say out of the side of his mouth, "would tomorrow afternoon be okay?"

I looked at him, but he was staring at the blue flame of the Bunsen burner. The gas scent did nothing to dilute the smell of his blood. This was going to be hard, but I knew I couldn't refuse.

"I'll ask my brother to give you a ride home and let you know where to meet us after school."

"Thanks," he said, turning to look in my eyes again.

"It's no problem," I replied and silently hoped that would be true.


	8. Chapter 8 Study Session

Chapter 8: Study Session

The logistics were fairly easy to arrange. Alice and Jasper agreed to take a separate vehicle the day that George would be coming home with us. I was slightly surprised that Rosalie and Emmett didn't want to ride with them, but Auntie Rose was showing an unprecedented interest in the human. She would be traveling with Mom, Dad, George, and me on the way home, and was sitting with her arm around me in the second row of seats as Dad drove the slightly less full Suburban to school.

"I just want to get a better idea of what kind of person he is, since he's apparently going to be visiting the house on a regular basis," Rose said, trying to form a smile, though it was more of a grimace. "It can't help to have an extra set of eyes judging how he reacts to you."

"You mean us," I said.

Rose's smile transformed into the one I could remember from when I was a baby. She gave that smile to me when I did something "grown-up" for the first time. She and Alice had both worn that smile the last time we went shoe shopping and I chose a pair of heels for myself. "Just remember that Esme is 'mom,' while he's in the house," Rosalie replied.

I snuck a peak at my real Mom, who was riding shotgun. Her face was completely impassive. I realized it was important to play our parts, but it would feel strange pretending she wasn't my mother in our own home. I hoped she wasn't hurt that I had put us in this odd position.

"And remember that we'll all be there for you if you need us," Dad said, trying to look reassuring, though he seemed stressed, too. "The smallest whisper and the nearest one of us will give you an excuse to end the visit the moment it's too much for you."

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I said. I didn't express the thought aloud, but I wasn't so sure whether George would be fine. Though he obviously had no idea he'd be the only full-blooded human in a house full of vampires, I had a feeling that he was just as nervous as a hapless tourist on a tour of Volterra was.

"Mom," I said, leaning forward to touch her face. She turned toward me and watched the images that were swirling in my brain. I thought of all the things that could possibly go wrong, but mostly I just wished that George would feel at home at our place. I hoped fervently that our project would go well, and that he'd win that scholarship that it seemed he needed. She patted my hand reassuringly, and it gave me the courage to show her Jake's face when I had shared my memories of George with him. The crease between her eyebrows formed for a moment.

_Why? _ I thought to her.

"I don't know, Nessie," she said, though I got the feeling she had an idea she wasn't sharing. "I think it was a wise decision to ask Jake not to come in while you and George are having your study session."

Dad chuckled softly.

My classes that day were a blur as I fretted about all the possibilities of what could go wrong when George came over. My brain had room for many thoughts at once, but it seemed there was only room to consider a thousand different ways the project could turn into a disaster, or occasionally wonder what was going on with Jake.

It seemed that one moment the family was walking into school after parking our two vehicles and the next I was standing next to the backseat door, waiting for George to meet us. I was kicking at the gravel and scuffing my new shoes, which I'm sure I wouldn't get away with doing if Alice hadn't already headed home. She had been able to tell me that George would be healthy enough to go to school again tomorrow, so at least I didn't need to worry that he'd be hurt or shocked too much this afternoon.

I took a deep breath as I saw him walking toward us. I heard Mom, Dad, Rose, and Emmett do the same. I would have to continue breathing, but I guessed they would limit their intake while we were in the enclosed space with the human.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," said George. He blushed as he looked at the big shiny vehicle. I was slightly embarrassed, too. But at least we weren't going home in a Ferrari.

We all got into the car, and an awkward silence permeated the space, stifling me more than my thirst. I wished I could think of something to say to break the tension, but it was too early to start talking about the project. We needed to have our papers in front of us, or have something to do. I felt my heart pounding in my chest. How were we going to survive the rest of the afternoon if I couldn't calm down for a ten-minute car ride?

Emmett, ever fearless, did his best to save me from the panic attack I felt rising. "So, where are you from George?"

I cringed slightly. Even though it was better than silence, his question sounded like something an older relative would ask, not the casual question of a high school student.

"I was born in Hungary," said George.

"Well," said Dad, "I know it's not the same, but we can kind of relate to being new to an area." George said nothing but at least he didn't frown or argue. I had no idea what kind of information Dad was getting from his thoughts, but he continued: "We've moved four times since our parents adopted us. It kind of sucks, doesn't it?"  
>"I don't know," said George. But he looked like he definitely did know, and I'm sure my dad was getting a very different story from what he wasn't saying.<p>

I felt a little ashamed of myself for not asking George more about himself before. Even though he hadn't seemed particularly interested in making conversation with me, perhaps I should have put in a better effort. I wondered what kind of books on Hungary I could order from Amazon, and how long it would take me to learn the language. It might be kind of fun to work on our chemistry project in his native tongue. But, he'd think it was weird if I had learned. I stifled a sigh. Every way I could think of to make it easier to work together with this human seemed to come with its own impossible complications.

Finally, we arrived at the house. George's eyes got a little wide and his pulse quickened as he stared at the facade. He looked more frightened than he had at any time during the ride. Odd, that a building should make him nervous while being in an enclosed space with four vampires and one - well, me - didn't seem to affect his regular heartbeat at all.

Grandma was waiting for us just inside. She had a roaring fire in the cast iron stove of the barn-like living room. I guessed that she had been beside it moments before we stepped over the threshold, because she greeted George with her hands outstretched. He took it awkwardly, his face turned toward me rather than looking in her eye.

"Hello, George," she greeted him. "I'm glad you were able to come over today. Nessie is very excited about your project." She smiled at me and continued, "there are some snacks in the kitchen if either of you are hungry."  
>"Huh?" I asked. Since when did we have snacks?<p>

"You guys can have the office," Dad quickly put in. I smiled at him gratefully, realizing he had kept me from making a mistake.

We made what I felt was good progress on the project. We settled on the main hypothesis we would test and sketched out a schedule to meet the contest deadline. It would involve getting together at least a couple of times a week over the next three months, which made us both uncomfortable.

Around six o'clock we stopped our work and George packed up his backpack. He had insisted that we didn't need to drive him home, but that his father could pick him up on the way home from his work. We were standing together by one of the giant windows of the living room, waiting to see his family car make it up the drive. I had a feeling George would have rather waited at the end of the driveway, but Esme had made it clear she wanted to at least wave to his dad, even if there wouldn't be time to have a parent-to-parent chat.

"I could walk to your house next time, so you don't have to make room for me in the car," George said at one point. "

Don't be silly," I replied. "No one minded giving you a ride. Most of the time we fight about taking separate vehicles or car pooling anyway."

"How many cars does your family have?" he blurted out, and then reddened at his own words. It happened so often that I barely noticed the intensifying smell of his blood, but I couldn't keep myself from admiring the pink of his cheek. Very few of the human boy's faces showed color that way. Despite having to repress my thirst, I kind of enjoyed watching him blush.

"A few," was all I could reply. "I guess we're pretty spoiled." I hadn't realized that until now. Cars were just one of the toys we enjoyed, but I was learning the luxuriousness of our vehicles, as well as the number the family owned, were a privilege few shared. George didn't have a car, and I wondered what kind his family owned.  
>"Well, at least you don't act spoiled," he said. He wasn't looking at me again, but I wished he were so I could get a clearer view of his expression. He seemed sincere.<p>

"Thank-you."

He shrugged. We stood in silence for a moment.

It was ironic given the many secrets I was keeping from George, but I was feeling increasingly frustrated by how little I knew about him. Though he didn't seem interested in talking about anything besides our project, I took a chance and asked him one of the many questions that were buzzing in my mind.

"Did you know English before you left Hungary?"

He stared at me a moment before answering, as if he was waiting for me to add something to my question. I didn't, so he replied. "Not really. A few phrases, but I basically had to start from scratch after we got here."  
>"Wow," I said. I could only imagine how difficult that would be. I didn't need words to communicate. When words failed me, I felt like there was a great bubble in my stomach that grew and grew and pushed to get out. When I tried to restrain myself from sharing my thoughts through touch, it could sometimes hurt from the pressure. But, I had never been unable to communicate in one way or another for very long. I wondered if that was why George still said so little. He had gotten used to the pressure of holding his thoughts in.<p>

"I'm sorry I'm still hard to understand," he said. "My younger brother barely speaks with an accent at all, but I can't get rid of mine."

"I don't find you hard to understand at all," I replied. Though this was technically a lie, it was not the sound of his words that puzzled me. It was the words he chose, or more often, the lack of words.

He gave a single brief laugh. Just then, headlights hit the house and we saw his father's car approaching. It was a small Hyundai and appeared to be a few years old.

George looked back at the door to the kitchen. Esme hadn't yet come out, but I was sure she heard the car. "I don't think my dad has time to come in," he said. "We'll wave, if that's okay."

"Of course," I replied. "Thank you for coming."

He stared at me for a moment before replying, "Thank you." He walked to the front door and I followed a few steps behind. "Bye," he said, stepping out. He closed the door behind him, and I fought the urge to take the last steps between us at a normal pace so I could hold it open and wave goodbye. Instead, I turned back to the living room window. Esme was already there, looking out with a small smile. She put her arm around me and we waved at the car.

Neither George nor his dad waved back. I could see their lips move as they spoke a few sentences to each other. The shape of their words was unfamiliar, and I realized they must have been speaking in their native language. Esme put her arm around my shoulders as we watched the car turn around and then disappear out the drive.

"Well," she said. "That seemed to go well."


	9. Chapter 9: Prom Season Approaches

Chapter 9: Prom Season Approaches

The next few months went by much smoother than I expected. George and I were making good progress on the project, meeting a couple of times a week at my place and divvying up tasks that we could do on our own. I realized after about the fourth visit that I had succeeded in something I thought might never be possible: I had made a human friend.

Well, maybe friend wasn't exactly the right word. He still seemed uncomfortable in our house. Once I got my driver's license and was able to drive us places like the library or the office supply store when we needed materials, I thought we might learn more about each other by talking in the car. But, we talked very little about anything besides Chemistry. And George had no idea that I was now fluent in three languages: English, Quileute, and Hungarian. I mastered the third through CD's and online courses; yet, didn't speak it to anyone, even George. I felt I shared a bit of his loneliness in the fact that I didn't have anyone to share this language with, like he couldn't speak to anyone aside from his parents and brother.

It didn't make it easier that basically everything he knew about the circumstances of my family was a lie: our cover story for while we were in Hanover. Naturally, he knew nothing about the many other places I had lived. He never met Jake, who for whatever reason never stopped by while George and I were studying. When I asked my werewolf friend whether he'd like to meet my human one, Jake said something about meeting enough high school kids when he was in high school himself. That was funny for me to consider. It was hard to picture Jake as a student, worrying about tests and projects and how to fit in with other kids. I could only see him as my Jacob, who loved running with me through the New Hampshire woods, and who had never seemed to worry about anything besides his pack and me.

George never shared anything about his family, though a little googling led to the discovery that his father was a professor at Dartmouth. That made me a bit nervous, since Mom and Dad had been enrolled there before I was born. They had withdrawn before ever showing up on campus, being distracted by my birth and an assault on the family by the Volturi. The chance of anyone, and especially George's father, putting together the Edward and Bella Cullen who had paid their tuition but never showed up to Dartmouth eight years ago with the Cullen family now enrolled in high school was highly unlikely.

George and I were a month away from the deadline for the competition entry when I suddenly had something else to worry about. The first posters advertising the date and time of this year's prom went up around school. I felt like they may as well have been announcements offering a ransom for me.

The stupid boys who would cock their smiles at me at the hall took their attention up a notch. I had been cold enough in the past that I thought I had discouraged them from trying to talk to me, but now it seemed everywhere I went I was greeted with a chorus of "Hey" or "How you doin'" or "Looking good, today." There was something animalistic in their eyes and it grossed me out. Sometimes I was even a little afraid when I saw one walking toward me, but whenever this happened Dad or Jasper would suddenly appear by my side and the human boy would veer off course like he hadn't intended to come within a hundred feet of me to begin with.

When I had to make conversation, none of them seemed to have anything interesting to say. Very few would even try to make eye contact, and some had been outright mean to George. It didn't seem to matter whether I was paying attention or not, but they would taunt him or occasionally knock his books off a table or desk. It was beyond my comprehension what pleasure anyone could get out of this juvenile behavior, and it bothered me to see George upset. He may not have been outrightly friendly, but he was kind and considerate to my family and me. The only time he ever cancelled a study session was when his mother was sick and he needed to go straight home to cook dinner for the family.

He was obviously hard working and did things that I never saw anyone else doing, like pick up loose flyers that were being stepped on in the floor of the hall. "The janitor has enough to do," was his reply when I asked him why he had taken the time to gather up the paper and dump it in a recycling bin that everyone else seemed to find invisible.

A few days after that I watched as some jocks were play fighting in the hall. One pushed another against the wall, and in their skirmish they knocked over one of the tall receptacles full of the students unwanted notes and handouts. A flood of papers spilled out over the hallway, but they laughed and walked away, leaving boot prints over many of the papers, and the bin still on its side blocking a good portion of the hallway. It was moments before the bell for Chemistry and I was alone in the hall. Despite the fact that no one could see me and it might make me late, I worked at human pace to right the recycle bin and return the papers.

I had finished and was readjusting the strap of my backpack as I turned the corner of the hall. The dumb jocks were leaning against the wall just ahead. I had to stifle a hiss at their ignorant mean-spiritedness and their arrogant gaze as they caught sight of me. I mean, really, did they think I was supposed to be impressed by them?

"Hey Cullen," said one as he took a step toward me.

"Hello," I answered coolly, and kept walking, looking past him rather than making eye contact. I suppose by now I should have known his name, but even if I was sure whether this was Brad or John or some other guy, I didn't want to encourage him in trying to talk to me.

Just as I was about to pass by them, he stepped right in front of me so I almost walked into his body. Part of me wished I had, because it probably would have hurt him a little. I might not have been as stone hard as the rest of my family, but I wasn't as soft as I looked, either.

"Guess what," he asked leaning down toward me. I could smell his breath even over the putrid cologne and his blood that throbbed a little harder than usual through his veins. The artery in his neck was sticking out, probably from the strain of keeping his biceps flexed. For the first time in my life, I wanted to sink my teeth into the throat of a human. Just as quick as the impulse came, it disappeared from my own shock.

I took a step back. "What?" I gasped.

My retreat and fear at the hidden monster that had suddenly risen up inside me seemed to encourage the silly, vulnerable human in front of me. "I decided I'm taking you to prom," he replied. He looked like he was waiting for me to do a cheer at his pronouncement.

I was still too shocked from the fact that I had thought of hurting him to edit my response. "No, you're not," I said.

The big grin on his stupid face only faltered for a second. "Oh come on," he said. "Who else you going to go with, that loser you've been driving around?"

I so wanted to growl at this jerk, but I opted for the stony silent glare that Rose had perfected to make humans wilt in front of her eyes. It worked better than I expected. For a moment, his eyes grew wide and instead of the bully full of false pride and confidence, I saw just a young, stupid, boy. He looked scared, but quickly recovered.  
>"You know," he said, turning to his friend. "Up close, she's not even that hot. She keeps acting so stuck up she's not going to have any options." He turned back to me, "Maybe I don't want to go with you, after all. Maybe no one else with ask you either, not even the ghoulish grease ball." Strange, but I think he was still half-expecting me to agree to back pedal and beg him to ask me again to be his date for the stupid prom. Like I would want to be anywhere with him.<p>

"I'd be so heartbroken," I replied. Then I stepped around him and hurried off to class before I could do something stupid. Thankfully, I resisted the urge to shove him aside. The way the blood was pulsing into my muscles, I might have pushed too hard and hurled him right out the window.


	10. Chapter 10 A Family Secret

Chapter 10 Family Memories

It was about 2 AM on a Sunday, and most of the family were gathered in the great room of our home.  
>Grandpa Carlisle had volunteered to take a graveyard shift at Dartmouth-Hitchcock hospital, and Esme had left a little while ago to drop off some food at the shelter. It was easier to do this when very few people were around, I had learned. The ideal time was when even the volunteers might be dozing a little, so there wasn't anyone to ask questions about why she was regularly showing up with enough groceries for a family of nine.<p>

Emmett and Jasper were watching several sports on the TV by flipping between four channels on a regular tempo. I didn't find any of them very interesting. Mom and Dad didn't seem to be doing anything besides staring at each other.

Rose and Alice were working together on some drawings of new clothes they were designing. Apparently, this year's designers had disappointed them, so they felt it was time they take our family's fashion future into their own hands.

"How about some formal wear?" chirped Auntie Alice.

"Absolutely," replied Aunt Rose. "Let's work on a gown for Nessie first. I think a nice forest green would be lovely with her coloring."

I had been keeping to myself, reading some Hungarian poetry and hoping no one would mention that I should probably be in bed. Sometimes the family forgot that I needed sleep and I could stay up as late as I wanted. But more often, they treated me like a child and gave me the lights-out order long before I was ready.

"Where would I wear a gown?" I asked. Alice and Rose kept pushing me into flashier clothes, but I was pushing back to stick to jeans and the kinds of clothes that most of the other humans wore. Being the weekend, I had relented and put on a dress with an Italian label. It was far less comfortable, and had seemed to only fuel my aunts' desire to play dress up with me. I was hoping Mom would tell them to cool it.

"Prom, of course," said Auntie Rose. "Though, we might want to wait awhile before actually making the dress. You're still growing a bit, and we'd want a perfect fit."

Ugh, I thought. That meant they'd be having me up on that horrible stool being measured to the millimeter and probably sew me into something silk that would tear if I tried to run in it. I whined, "Why do I have to go to prom?"

Alice rolled her eyes at me. "You sound just like your mother. Bella, tell Nessie she'll enjoy the prom if she gives it a chance. You know you did."

I swiveled my head to look at mom. I don't think I had ever heard this story before. Mom's face was screwed up in the expression that she made when trying to remember her human life and seeing something a little unpleasant. "My memories are kind of fuzzy," she replied. "But I don't think you can convince me I liked prom that much, Alice." She looked back at Dad, and frowned in a teasing way. "In fact, I'm still not sure I forgive you for tricking me into going."

"See," I whined, clinging to the possibility that Mom might help me escape the clutches of a gown and the ghastly dance the jerky boys kept bringing up. "No one really wants to go to a prom."

Just then, Jake walked in the back door. It was odd for him to visit this late at night, but I guessed he had been sleeping in his wolf form nearby and then heard my distress. He had an uncanny ability to come to my rescue, especially when Rose wanted me to do something unappealing.

"Prom?" Jake said. "What an overrated, stupid non-event. Nessie shouldn't have to go if she doesn't want to."  
>I was relieved that he had arrived to back me up, but his words didn't make sense at first. Then I was shocked to realize what they meant. "You went to prom, Jake?"<p>

He looked a little embarrassed, like I might make fun of him for this fact. "Well, not really," he said. "I just showed up at your Mom's for a little while." He and Mom looked at each other in a way I had never seen them look before, as if they were completely different people then the ones I knew. "What was it, one dance, Bells?" he asked her.

"You two danced?" I asked. I felt my mouth hanging open as I looked from one to the other, trying to picture it. "With each other?" I added, wondering if I had misunderstood.

"Well, yeah, um..." Jake stammered. I forced my jaw shut and waited for him continue. I needed to know more to make sense of this. "It wasn't even really a dance so much. See, my dad had bribed me to go to tell your Mom to stay away from the blood...I mean from the rest of your family." I still couldn't say anything, it was as if my brain was too tired to make sense of his words, let alone form my own.

"It's ancient history," put in Dad.

"Yes," chimed in Mom. "It was years before you were born, Nessie. Before Billy understood what the Cullens were like."

I wasn't sure why she said that, but I wasn't going to be diverted from the point I needed to understand. "You two danced? Like touching each other? Like in the movies?"

"What movies do you mean hon?" Jake asked. He still looked uncomfortable.

I flitted to the sofa and grabbed the remote away from Uncle Emmett. No mean feat, but I was so fast, he didn't have time to tighten his grip. I flipped through until I found some sappy teen romance that matched the horrible picture in my mind. I pointed to the screen where a boy in a tuxedo hugged a woman in a pink frilly nightgown close as they swayed together and gazed into each other's eyes. "Like that?" I demanded, not sure why my stomach was turning at the thought. "Like those two, there?"

Mom whisked to my side and put her arms around me, trying to soothe me. I wasn't even sure why I needed to be soothed, and part of me wanted to push her away. I closed my eyes and worked hard to slow my breathing. Why, I thought to myself. Why does that idea bother me? More importantly, why had they never told me about it?

"I need to know," I said.

Jake had moved closer to me, too. "What do you need to know, honey?" he asked me.

"Everything," I growled at him. "Everything that you two did before I was born."

"Okay," said Jake, while at the same time Mom said, "Nessie, you're overreacting."

Dad had joined our tense little huddle. He put his arms around Mom's shoulders. "Bella, love," he said quietly, "It's time. If she's ready to ask, she's ready to hear it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "What?" I asked. "Have you all been keeping secrets from me?" At that moment, I felt a wave of calm emanating from Uncle Jasper. The rest of them all had sort of sleepy looks on their faces as they were affected by his unusual power. Aunt Rose looks not only sleepy but also superior. Like someone had admitted she'd been right after a very long argument.

"No one has been keeping secrets, Ness." Dad said. "It's just you never asked before."

The crease between Mom's eyebrows was so defined by her stress it looked like a bottomless crevasse in her perfect marble forehead.

"The one thing I want you to remember, Nessie," she said, looking me hard in the face, "Is that we all love you very much. In fact, loving you is what made all the puzzle pieces of our lives fit right."

And with that cryptic remark, Mom started to tell me the story of how she became a vampire for the first time. She told me about her junior year of high school and how she and dad had fallen in love. She told me about how she had also fallen in love with her best friend, Jacob, and how he had loved her back until the day I was born.  
>I listened. I waited for the ground to open up beneath me. It felt like the very earth I had always taken for granted would suddenly cease to exist. Because how could I know that the earth was real, if I hadn't ever realized my mother, my father, and my best friends were complete strangers to me?<p> 


	11. Chapter 11 Last Push for the Project

Chapter 11 - Last Push for Project

"Vanessa?" George's voice was hesitant, but I heard the irritation he was trying to hide. "Did you hear me?"  
>"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. "I lost my train of thought for a moment." The project was nearly completed, so this would be one of the last study sessions in my house. Next week we would submit out project to the Siemens Competition, and then it was just left to wait to see if we'd be short-listed for presentations.<p>

I was confident that we would at least be finalists and perhaps even win. Though early on Dad and Carlisle had expressed concern that I would give our team an unfair advantage, more than half of the work was Georges. I had no doubt that he could have submitted an entry on his own, so I'd gotten over the feeling that I was cheating anyone. We even had plans set up for redirecting my portion of the prize money to another needing student, should George and I win.

"So," said George, looking uncomfortable. "Did you think we should add this to the report?" He held out a hand-sketched graph that he had done the night before. It probably would be a good addition, but I worried that it was time to just wrap things up. At what point would we be going overboard, showing off, and drawing too much attention to us? It was a common refrain throughout our sessions. George even called me shy, which came as a surprise to me. I decided to give in without a fight this time.

"Sure," I said. "Let me scan it, and then we can come up with a caption." I got up from the table, and started to walk to Carlisle's office where he had a high-quality scanner.

"Okay," he replied to my back. As soon as I was around the corner in the hall, I moved at my normal speed. It took very little time to save the file, and upload to the cloud so we could access it on the laptop we were working on at the dining room table.

As I was heading back, I noticed a bit of russet color along the edge of the woods outside the window. I stopped and watched as Jake paced back and forth along the tree line. I knew he could see me, but I didn't wave. I guessed he was waiting for George to leave so he could come inside and start trying to talk to me again. I still wasn't even sure why we were fighting, but I didn't really want to be around Jake right now, even though I knew how much it was hurting him. Part of me was even glad that he was upset.

When I got back to the dining room, George had already grabbed the image and inserted it in our report. We agreed on a caption and he typed it, then hit save.

George's face turned up into one of his rare smiles. It eased the pain that had started in my chest when I saw the wolf outside our window.

"I think we're done, Vanessa," he said.

I returned his smile. "I think you're right," I replied. "It really came out great, didn't it?"

"Yeah." He scrolled through the pages on the screen. His smile faded, and I wondered if he had seen a mistake. But then his blush started, and I could almost guess what he was thinking. He whispered, "Thanks for working with me." It was like that whenever our conversation turned away from the technicalities of chemistry and catching typos. He seemed greatly embarrassed whenever he tried to express gratitude or say anything nice about me.

"Thank-you," I said. "You made it easy on me. Maybe even too easy," I kidded. It was a good idea to start laying the groundwork for making him believe he truly deserved the scholarship that I was going to do everything I could to make sure he got.

In the unlikely event that our team didn't win the Siemens, I was sure that my family could find a way to pay for his college. Mom and Dad seemed quite fond of him. Though they didn't talk to him much while he was in the house, they smiled at each other whenever I spoke about him. When I asked Dad whether George's thoughts were much different from what he said aloud, worried that George thought I wasn't pulling my weight with the project, Dad had replied. "No human says everything they're thinking, Ness. But George is always truthful with you."

I thought about that cryptic remark as George packed up his book bag. "We're done early," he said. "Would you mind if I stayed and worked on some of my other homework until my dad gets here?" Again, his cheeks reddened. I wished I had found a way to make him understand that he was welcome here and that he didn't need to ask permission to stay even though we were done working on the project.

"Of course not," I replied. "Do you mind if I do the same?" I pulled out a battered copy of Charles Dickens. My essay on a Tale of Two Cities was already finished, but I pretended to read and made a few notes while we waited for the familiar sound of his father's car coming up our driveway. I frowned at the book as I realized I had left my bookmark at the part where Lucie's suitors came to her father to ask her permission. That was my least favorite part. I still didn't quite understand what Lucie saw in Darnay, it seemed all he did was lie and go behind her back instead of expressing his feelings to her directly, like Carton did.

I snuck a peak at George to see if I could get away with turning to another chapter. Unfortunately, he was looking at me. "I had to read that for English, too," he said when our eyes met.

"Did you like it?" I asked, still surprised that we could converse so easily now. The ease had come very gradually over the several months of studying together. Though he would still occasionally clam up if I asked the wrong question, especially if I asked about his family, we could talk about most anything else. Literature was probably the most stress-free topic. He approached books almost as analytically as he did science, and I supposed I did too. Which was why it surprised me that he blushed at my question.

"I guess so," he shrugged, then looked down at his math textbook. He made no move with his pencil, though I could see that he had been in the middle of an equation.

The silence that followed was so complete; I could hear the heavy padding of paws out along the trees. It made me wish that George would stay longer. As soon as he left, I'd have either to face Jake or hide behind Rose and Alice, who were taking advantage of my distraction and weariness to declare victory in the battle of the prom dress. Rose was determined that the green silk gown fit me so perfectly that they insisted on measuring me over and over again. Every millimeter of growth was accounted for with redone stitches and occasional redesign of a flourish or detail. But even that torture was easier than trying to talk to Jake.

Every time I even looked at my friend, I saw him in a tuxedo with his arms wrapped around my mother. Suddenly a thought occurred to me. A way that I could make them understand how I felt. Despite my objections, eight prom tickets had been purchased for my parents, aunts and uncles, myself and an extra. I knew the assumption was that I would forgive Jake and he would go as my friend. I also knew that he wanted to go with me, even though he had said that the prom itself was a nonevent.

Well, what if I went, but I didn't ask him? How would he feel then? How would my mom feel seeing me in the arms of someone who wasn't in on all our secrets? Wouldn't it make her a little queasy to see me dancing with an outsider - seeing me in a situation that she couldn't understand? I realized I was staring at George and he was returning my gaze.

"What is it?" he asked.

What should I say? I couldn't ask him directly to go with me. Maybe if I hinted.

"I was just wondering," I began. Then a horrible thought occurred to me. What if I was too late? "Who are you going to prom with?" I blurted out.

George reddened, as I expected he would. But he also did something unexpected. He laughed bitterly. "I'm not going to prom," he said, his face turning into a grimace as his laugh subsided.

"Why?" I asked, surprised. It had seemed everyone at Bangor High was going. The way my family acted, there really wasn't any choice.

"Why do you think?" George replied, glowering now. Though I couldn't understand why, I had clearly made him angry. "Prom isn't for people like me," he continued. "Who are you going with?"

"I don't know," I replied. It was truer than I wanted it to be. I wondered what would happen if I tried to go without a date.

George turned away from me and stared out the window. "Too many choices, huh?" he grunted.

"I don't understand," I whispered. I wished silently that Dad would come in and help me navigate this conversation that had taken such an unexpected turn. I was sure that this was one time that George was not saying what was on his mind. My palms throbbed with unexpressed thoughts and questions.

Headlights appeared at the end of our driveway. Before the car was even halfway to the house, George walked away and out the door. He closed it behind him without even saying goodbye.

I felt smooth cool arms around me as I watched him walk to the edge of the driveway, standing for a few moments as he waited for his father's car to reach him.

"Nessie, dear," said my mother, pressing her cheek against mine. As her marble face pressed to mine, I realized that hot tears were rolling down my face.

"What did I do wrong?" I asked. She didn't reply.

I turned to face her and put my hand on her cheek, feeling my own tears still warm against her skin. I thought about the conversation I had just had and then played back every moment I had ever spent with George in high speed. I tried to see a pattern for what it was that upset him or embarrassed him, but the patterns didn't make sense. "What did I do?" I thought.

Mom's face showed concern. "You didn't do anything, dear. I know it's hard for you to understand."

"Understand what?" I asked.

"Bella, love," Dad called. I hadn't noticed that he was standing in the doorway of the dining room. "It's not time, yet."

Mom nodded. I wanted to scream at both of them, though I had no idea what the words would be.


	12. Chapter 12: Waking from a Dream

Chapter 12 - Waking from a Dream

The hall of the Marriott was filled with hundreds of balloons and multi-colored streamers. Music thumped out of the giant speakers at the end of the room where the DJ in a white tuxedo managed his various computers and IPods. Boys and girls moved to the beat, their eyes locked on one another on the dance floor.

The room was a blaze of color and movement, so much so that even my half-vampire eyes couldn't make out the details. It seemed all of the people were just shapes, their faces blurred in the dim light that usually made no difference to my sight. I was wearing the finally finished green gown, and despite myself I was proud of how I looked. For the first time I could remember, I wanted others eyes on me, I wanted to be seen and appreciated. But, as I moved onto the dance floor, completely alone, it was as if I was invisible. The dancers moved out of my way without even looking away from each other.

My heart beat faster and the air seemed to turn solid in my lungs as I searched for my family. Surely they could see me; they could explain what was happening to the human's faces. But, I couldn't find them. I called out for Jake, but my voice barely carried over the music. I had no idea if he was anywhere near this demonic prom, anyway.

All of a sudden, the air returned to normal. Though all the faces around me remained the same, I couldn't deny the sensation that I was being watched over. It was a comforting feeling, like familiar arms around me. I turned in a circle trying to find a face that was turned toward me that would explain what I was feeling. I searched for the golden or black eyes of a member of my family, but still couldn't find them anywhere. Finally, my gaze locked on a pair of familiar brown eyes. The scent of George flooded over me as we walked toward each other, while all the other people moved away without seeming to notice either of us.

He was wearing his familiar attire of jeans and a button down plaid shirt. I couldn't understand why he wasn't in a tuxedo like all the other boys there, but I realized that I was glad he just looked like himself.

We walked toward each other and met in the center of the dance floor. We stood facing each other with a few feet in between us.

The air began to hum and I longed to close that gap, though I wasn't sure how. We stared at each other, it was all at once familiar, and like nothing I had ever experienced. I felt like I could see a George that was hidden from everyone else's view and he saw the real me, the half vampire that didn't even know who she was. He saw all my fears about letting down my family, of failing to fit in, of not understanding what human emotion was supposed to be. He saw my fears and understood them, because they were his fears, too. Even though he was completely human, he was different and afraid just like me.

Finally, he spoke, "I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul. In my degradation, I have not been so degraded but that the sight of you with your father, and of this home made such a home by you, has stirred old shadows that I thought had died out of me. Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent forever. I have had unformed ideas of striving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing, and leaves the sleeper where he lay down, but I wish you to know that you inspired it."

It was the speech that Carton gives to Lucie Manette in _A Tale of Two Cities_. The scene in which he expresses her feelings for her, and asks that she never share the secret of those feelings with anyone. It was then I realized I was dreaming, though I had never had a dream like this before. I had never had a dream that seemed so real, even if it didn't make much sense.

Perhaps if I hadn't realized it was a dream, I would have stopped what happened next. But, none of this was real, so why would it make any difference to try and move away as George took those last few steps toward me? Why would I turn away from his deep brown eyes as they stared into mine with an intensity I had never seen before? Why would I do anything but enjoy the warmth of his hand as he pressed it against mine? Why wouldn't I respond in kind by putting my hand on his cheek? Why would it surprise me that he did nothing but smile when I used my gift to show him how he looked through my eyes - when I shared how angry those stupid boys who thought George was a loser made me? Why wouldn't I close my eyes as I saw his own lids flutter shut as he leaned toward me, our faces moving towards each other's as I felt every pulse of heated blood like a wave from his lips?

Still, the shock of his kiss woke me suddenly. I sat up in bed, my heart pounding, and my breath coming in great gasps. Mom and Dad had heard my distress and came flitting into my room and sat with me on the edge of my bed. They looked slightly anxious, but nothing like how I'm sure I felt. I didn't even care that they may not understand the dream; I leaned forward and touched each of them with one hand. It was harder to project thoughts through my left hand, so I put that one on Dad's face. I knew he'd be able to see what I showed Mom, anyway.

"Nessie, Nessie, Nessie," my mom crooned, stoking my hand with one of her own while the other grasped my shoulder. "You're growing up so fast."

"Would you like to talk to us about it?" Dad asked. I could tell that I really did have a choice. That they would give me space to sort this out on my own if I wanted them to.

"I swear, I never thought of him like that before," I said, surprised by the sound of my own voice. The speed of my breaths changed the tone and cadence. "I never thought of anyone like that before."

They smiled at me. Mom dropped the hand from my shoulder and grasped Dad's, while still stroking my hand on her cheek with the other. "Why don't you tell us how you feel about George?" she prompted.

I didn't know what to say. I ran through the memories of George I had accumulated since the first time I had spotted him in the hall at school. I thought of how the novelty of his pure scent had intrigued but also frightened me. I remembered my irritation at him when he tried to help me in class. I thought of how hard he had worked on our project, and how he always expressed his gratitude for the little my family did for him. I thought of how he seemed to believe what others said about him, that he was different and in somehow less than them, like Sydney Carton believed he was less than other people. I thought of how much I wanted him to see that wasn't true. I wanted him to see that he was more than them, that he was better than those who gossiped or said hurtful things or acted arrogant for no reason. I thought of his courage for facing that arrogance every day, but keeping his head up and focusing on the importance of his own future. I thought of how much I wanted to give him the chance to win a scholarship. How I had imagined the smile that might stretch across his face when we won.

"Oh," I said.

"Yes, dear," Mom prompted. Though I knew she could tell what words had formed in my mind, she wanted me to say them aloud.

My half-human heart beat even more rapidly in my chest. Tears formed in my eyes and I let out a great laugh. "I'm in love with him." The thought was neither sad nor funny, but I cried and laughed more as I said it again. "I love him."

Mom and Dad drew me closer and they hugged be together on my bed as I laughed and cried. I wanted to throw myself down on the bed again, but they held me upright as the sobs and guffaws shook my frame. Finally, I calmed myself enough to push back and look at their faces. They looked worried. I realized I probably seemed like I was having some kind of breakdown. But hadn't they always told me that change in our kind was unpredictable?

I was a different person now. I knew what love was, and it was nothing like how any of the books described it. Novelists and poets described the wonderful part of love; they never said that the joy came with an inescapable ache as well. I had never read a description of this feeling like you were being ripped in two by the thought of someone, whether they loved you back or not.

I looked at Dad. Though I knew it was unfair to ask the question, I couldn't stop myself. "Does he love me back?" I asked him.

Dad's golden eyes returned my gaze and seconds passed before he answered me. In those moments, a panic rose in my breast. What if George didn't think of me that way at all? What if he just thought I was a spoiled brat that he only spent time with because of the project? I thought of his reaction to my mention of prom and was convinced this was true. Then Dad said quietly, "Yes, Nessie, he loves you, too. But he's afraid to say anything."  
>Though I was still sitting there with them in my room, I had a sensation through every part of my body like I was running through the woods at top speed. My skin tingled as if air was whooshing past me. I felt a warm glow through every fiber of every muscle. I smiled so wide that it actually hurt my cheeks. Dad and Mom weren't smiling though. They both looked a little sad.<p>

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nessie," Dad replied. "We're going to have to move on now."

"Why?" I asked. Why would we move when I had just fallen in love? What could possibly have happened that was more important than what I was feeling?

"It's gotten too dangerous," Mom answered. The crease was between her eyes, and she looked like she would have cried if her body was capable of forming tears.

Dad continued for her, as it looked like Mom was too upset to continue. "You remember how the Volturi tried to force me to change your Mom when she and I fell in love. That was because Aro was intrigued by her shield; he was willing to have her changed into a vampire. If Alice hadn't convinced him that she was going to be changed eventually, we would have all been killed because of the risk of exposing the fact that vampires exist."

"But George doesn't know what we are," I insisted.

"I know that, love," Dad said. "But, if you two were to spend time together in the way that you both want, he may start to guess."

I wanted to deny it, but I knew it was true. George was extremely intelligent; it wouldn't take much of a clue for him to figure it out. And, now that I realized how I felt about him, I realized I wanted him to know the real me. There was a real chance I would subconsciously slip up and give him clues so that he could see who I really was.  
>As much as I secretly wanted him to know and love me, I also wanted him to have a wonderful life. A wonderful, human life. I couldn't live with myself if I took that choice away from him.<p>

"I won't tell him," I said aloud, while pressing my hands against their faces. They knew I wasn't just swearing to keep the secret about our family. I would never reveal to George that I loved him, nor that I suspected he loved me. "I'm sure he won't say anything either. Just, please, let's stay for graduation. Give me time and a chance to say goodbye."


	13. Chapter 13: Another Sleepless Night

Chapter 13: Another Sleepless Night

The hardest part about not being able to sleep in my house is that everyone knows when I can't sleep, since they never do themselves. I laid in my bed counting my own breaths, knowing that every once in a while the attention of one of my relatives would turn toward me and notice that I had not fallen into the deep quiet of slumber. I knew they were trying to give me privacy, which I appreciated after the revelation I had just shared.

I was used to hearing the regular pauses of my family outside my door, and did my best to mimic a gentle snore. Around 2 am I heard another familiar sound, one that had been absent for a few weeks. The pounding of heavy paws came from deep in the woods and got steadily nearer to the house. When I expected the sound to transition into Jake's human footsteps, I was surprised to hear instead the paws continue in a great circle around the house. I transitioned from counting my breaths to counting the circles as he ran away and then back toward me in a great arc. Forty turns around and the patter stopped, replaced with pants and a small whine.

I really didn't want to talk to Jake, and he wasn't supposed to bother me when I was supposed to be sleeping. But, I guessed he knew I wasn't sleeping anyway. I got out of bed and walked to the window, already open to the New Hampshire air. I leaned out and looked down and into my friends deep brown eyes, sparkling with human intelligence and compassion in the furry face of the russet wolf. He sat on his haunches, staring up at my window and whined again. It was the sound my heart was making, so I couldn't ignore him and make his pain worse.

"Hey," I whispered. Jake stretched up and put his front paws on the side of the building below. I was suddenly reminded of the balcony scene from _Romeo and Juliet._ It made me laugh ruefully at the idea of all the angst those characters had over their families not getting along. They had just been stuck between the Capulet's and Montague's; I was stuck between species, both in my love life and my very identity.

At the sound of my laugh, Jake wagged his tail, then sprinted back to the tree line. I appreciated that he was still respecting the lines I had drawn by phasing into his human form in private so that he could dress before I saw him. It was only a few seconds later that he came walking back toward the house.

"Hey Ness," Jake said. "Can I come up?"

I frowned slightly. "I'm supposed to be sleeping. I don't think Dad would like it."

Jake smirked and then made a running leap toward the house. I didn't think he'd be able to make it in his human form, but he caught the edge of my windowsill, then hung for a moment before using his great muscles to pull himself into the room.

"They probably heard that," I said, frowning at him. Did he really think that he could sneak into my room with vampires potentially listening?

"I'm sure they did," he replied, with what can only be described as a smirk. "I'm not trying to be secretive; I just didn't want to take the time to walk through the rest of the house."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Okay, so since you're in such a rush, what are you doing here?"

That wiped the cocky look off his face. His eyes echoed the sadness I'm sure was on my own expression, and his husky voice was quiet when he replied. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Humph," was my brilliant reply, punctuated with an extravagant eye roll.

"Please, Ness," Jake said. "Talk to me. You don't know how hard it is for me knowing that you're hurting and not being able to do anything about it."

"But that's just it, Jake. You can't do anything about it." He flinched at my words, but I continued. "Nobody can do anything. It's just an impossible situation, and I'm dealing with it, but I'd appreciate it if you'd let me just be not happy for a while."

He lifted his hand to reach out for me, then thought better of it and let it drop. "Of course you don't have to be happy. I just thought you'd want to talk about what you're going through."

I frowned at him, dubious. "Are you saying you want to hear about how I feel about George?" The memory of his reaction when I first shared my thoughts about the boy I had fallen in love with passed through each of us and took up residence in the room like a third person. I hadn't even realized I was in love at the time, but I was sure that was what had upset Jake.

Jake didn't pause for a moment however. "I want to hear about how you're feeling, period." He went on, and the sincerity emanating from him eased some of my reluctance. "And, obviously I'm curious about the guy that you're in love with. I'm your best friend; it's part of the job description that we judge whether any guy you're interested in or who's interested in you deserves you."

"Oh Jake," I said. I realized that I really did need a friend, and having someone to talk to who wasn't just interested in whether our family secret was at risk was too big a temptation to miss. I swept toward him and allowed his warm muscular arms to envelop me. Hot tears formed in my eyes. I was so tired of crying. I didn't want to waste the time and energy they cost me, when I should be just talking with my best friend. I refused to even wipe at my eyes, and struggled with the weight the water placed on the lids.

"I never even realized I was falling in love until it was too late," I explained. "I just wanted to be his friend. Then one day I saw him looking at me, and it was like his eyes made me a different person." I closed my eyes. "And I felt like I saw a person in him that no one else could see. It's like we had this great secret between the two of us, but we never even said it aloud."

Jake held me and I leaned my chin against his shoulder, staring at the wall behind him.

"But, it's the secret that makes it impossible," I continued. "Even though I feel like he knows who I want to be, he can never know who I am."

"Of course he knows who you are, Ness." said Jake. "He knows you're smart, and kind, and caring. He knows you want to do well in school and make your family proud. He knows you'd work hard just to give someone else a chance at their dreams."

I pulled away to look in his face. "I hadn't realized you'd been thinking about the situation that much."

Jake smiled and in spite of myself, I smiled back.

"You couldn't realize just how much I think about you, Ness." Jake whispered. Suddenly Jake's eyes changed. I saw something that I swear had never been there before. It made my heart ache with longing for George for a moment, because it reminded me of the way I had seen him stare from across the cafeteria. But it also made my pulse race and my stomach flip over in a way that was not unpleasant. I was suddenly very confused and extremely tired.

"I think I need to get some sleep," I said.

"Of course, honey," Jake said. "Let me tuck you in." Just as fast as the pulse-racing electricity had appeared, it was gone again. Jake was my best friend, a member of the family, and I was a kid in desperate need of sleep as he pulled back the covers, allowed me to lay down, and kissed my head as I sank into the pillow and closed my eyes.


	14. Chapter 14: Regional Finals

_**Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all the characters. **_

_**Thanks to my husband for his review before I posted this chapter. Sorry to any of you readers that I don't always wait for his beta-ing. Thanks for all of your feedback, too.**_

Chapter 14: Regional Finals

I was ecstatic when we received the letter inviting George and I to the regional finals at MIT. However, it was difficult to prepare ourselves for the next phase of the competition, which would involve a poster presentation and a twelve-minute oral presentation. George was terrified of public speaking, so it took a good deal of effort to convince him that we should share responsibility for that part of the competition.

It still shocked me a bit that he was so self-conscious of the way he spoke. To my ears, his voice was more similar to "normal" teenagers than my parents, aunts, and uncles. Why most people deemed our voices lovely and his unpleasant was just one of many mysteries I had resolved not to spend much time thinking about.

There were many things I tried not to think about. I wouldn't spend much time thinking about how lovely it was to catch his scent on the breeze, compared with the harsh and unnatural chemical-saturated bodies of most other students. Or how much I longed for him to take my hand under our lab bench, or place his arm around me as we walked along the hall the way I saw other boys do to girls they were dating. I knew that George wouldn't make a show of flexing his biceps, as if the only reason he wanted to place his hand on my shoulder was to position his muscles in proper display.

I wouldn't dwell on the anxiety and sadness I saw in his eyes when one of our peers announced they had received an early acceptance letter to the school of their choice and griped about having to forego a new car because of the cost of tuition. His lack of friendliness and enthusiasm for these stories were not intellectual snobbishness, as those who did not know George assumed. It was just that those were not the kind of sacrifices George knew.

I kept my promise to my family and never gave any hint of my true feelings for George, or my knowledge of his feelings for me. We were strictly professional as we wrote and rewrote a script for our presentation. Oddly enough, the hardest times were when we disagreed. When he started to stick in his heels about not reading a certain part of his script, it made me so frustrated with him that I just wanted to shake him and scream, "You dummy, there's nothing wrong with you or your voice - why can't you see that?" But, of course, asking him to see how I felt about him was the one thing I could absolutely not do.

It was equally frustrating to have him refuse my family's help in any way. First, he turned down our offer to drive him to Cambridge. His point that his parents wanted to come and they had their own vehicle, though logical was maddening. We knew they could drive him; I just wanted to have more time to talk with him, even if it was in a crowded SUV with his parents and my grandparents. He also quickly kyboshed the very idea of having my family treat everyone to a celebratory meal. He incited superstitions about planning a celebration before we won, of more practical reasons of the complexity of seating large groups in restaurants and the time it would take, making for too late of a drive back to New Hampshire.

These were just a few of the many things I was trying not to think about as we stood together waiting to do our presentation to the judging committee. It didn't help that we had to wait together without our parents nearby. We could either stand in silence or talk to each other, and both seemed impossible to do without either bursting into tears or starting a fight; my emotions were so wound up. I was bouncing on my heels and fidgeting without even thinking about putting on a show of nerves. I fit right in with the other teenagers who were trying to cope with the anxiety of the competition.

However, the competition was the least of my worries. George was right about one thing: whether or not I won this scholarship had nothing to do with my college plans. He hadn't realized that it didn't have anything to do with his, either. His tuition was going to be taken care of, Mom, Dad, Grampa, and Grandma had all promised. Half of me hoped that Siemens wouldn't select George and me. If we didn't win the competition, my family would use the scholarship our lawyers had created especially for him to pay for his degree. Knowing that we were taking care of his college would make me feel connected to George in the next few years. It would be the only connection I could have, I know. Nevertheless, I also wanted him to have the joy and sense of pride from winning, and I knew he deserved it just as much as anyone in the competition did.

I had to stop my brain from pulling up these thoughts as George and I stood together. I allowed myself a brief glance at his face, and saw that he looked a little green. He was making himself sick with the anxiety of having to face the judges. I guess having to be alone with me wasn't making him any more comfortable, either.

I racked my brain for a way to distract both of us for the minutes we had left to wait. I needed to think about anything but the pain in my heart at the thought of never seeing him again after a few more months. I needed him to focus on something other than the high stakes he thought were at play today, the idea that this was his one shot at college and the future he wanted. He needed to feel as smart as I knew he was. He needed something familiar to calm him down.

"George," I said, and he jumped a little, startled out of his thoughts. "Teach me how to say something in Hungarian."

He frowned at me. "Now?" He asked, obviously annoyed.

"Yes," I said, "I need to think about something other than this competition, or I'm going to throw up." Of course, I wouldn't throw-up since I didn't have any food in my stomach. The deer blood I had feasted on last night had comfortably digested. I was describing how he looked, rather than how I felt.

George rewarded me with a small smile. I had succeeded in relaxing him by reminding him that he wasn't alone in this moment. "What do you want to know how to say," he asked.

Thrilled that he was allowing himself to think of anything other than the false idea that his whole future was about to be determined, I threw myself into the lie that I needed him to teach me his first language. "Anything," I prompted.

George frowned and turned his head away from me, scanning the crowded room again. I could hear his pulse speed up and knew I'd have to work a little harder at keeping his thoughts away from the pending presentation.  
>"Come on," I prompted. "Tell me how to say 'hello.'"<p>

He smiled a bit, and I was encouraged "Helló," he said. It was of course the same word, with a slightly different accentuation.

I laughed, and his smile widened. "Okay, how about something tougher?" I asked.

"Like what?" he asked in return. He finally met my eyes. I was pleased to have him focusing on me instead of all the other finalists in the room, even if staring into his brown eyes made my heart ache a bit. I thought of all the things I wished I could say to him, but I had a promise I intended to keep for his sake as well as my family's.

"Tell me how to say 'We're going to win.'" I asked.

He smiled again, but was silent. He turned away again, and I stared at his profile. Perhaps I should have come up with something else, something that didn't have anything to do with our present situation.

"Te ostoba," he replied. I opened my mouth to argue with him. He hadn't translated my request. He had called me silly. Before I could make a horrible mistake and reveal my secret, I thankfully remembered myself and snapped my mouth shut.

"Te ostoba," I repeated back to him. I kept my face completely smooth and innocent, but in my mind I was berating him with a harsh glare and the truth of those words. _You are, George, you have no idea how silly you are,_ I thought.

He looked back at me in surprise as if he knew what I was thinking. "That was really good," he said. My heart leapt with joy at his praise, but I stamped it back down in an instant. I should have pretended to pronounce it wrong.

"Okay, so tell me how to say something else," I prompted.

"Like what," he replied.

Like anything, I thought, rolling my eyes. "Tell me how to say, 'We're the smartest ones here.'"

"That's not very nice," he said to me, in English. "There are a lot of very smart people here." A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead as he said that. He gazed out across the small crowd of competitors and his brown eyes glazed over. I wished he'd just play along with me, even if he didn't intend on actually teaching me how to say anything for real.

"Yoo-hoo, George," I said, waving a hand in front of his eyes. "Come on, I'm not being mean. I'm just trying to make you believe in yourself for a second." I broke through his thoughts and once again, he smiled at me.

Encouraged, I prompted him again. "Tell me how to say 'We're the smartest ones here.'"

He didn't break my gaze as he said, "Te olyan csodálatos és olyan szép." _You are so wonderful and so beautiful._

Thank goodness he had chosen to give me so many words at once. I could cover for my surprise at his meaning by pretending I was overwhelmed by the number of syllables he had thrown at me. It also gave me a moment to decide how I would butcher the translation as I repeated it back to him.

"Te oylan csodalatos és..." I mangled the pronunciation of the beginning and let my voice falter before the end of his sentence. It's not like I could substitute the word handsome for beautiful, even though I truly believed he was. To return the compliment the way that I wanted to would have given myself away. Better to pretend I just wasn't sure what he had said. I shook my head in mock confusion and turned my face away, pretending I was turning my ear toward him to hear better. In truth, I was doing what I could to not get completely lost in the intensity of his gaze.

"...és olyan szép," his voice was a whisper, but it resounded through me like a great roll of thunder. I wanted to just stand in that moment forever, listening to the pounding of my own heart and George's as he stood by my side, each of us hiding from each other as we revealed our true feelings.

His English broke my revelry once again. "Vanessa, did I lose you on that one?" he asked.

I looked back at his face and almost laughed at his expression. The contrast of the assumed casualness he was trying to put forth with the intensity of his eyes was almost incomprehensible. _Yes, George,_ I thought, _you lost me- or rather, I lost myself because of you..._

"Sorry," I said aloud. I noticed that a competition official was looking toward us and toward the stage, obviously getting ready to shuffle us up for our presentation. I needed to distract George for just a few more minutes before it was time to stand before the judges. "Give me one more, and I'll try to do better. Tell me how to say 'Good luck.'" I turned to him with an expression that I hoped looked like calm and polite interest.

George swallowed and closed his eyes. He opened them just as he spoke to me, staring me straight in the face as he spoke the words that we both knew were true, even though he thought he was lying to me at the same time. He thought that I would not understand that he was telling me something other than what I asked him to say. He would never know that what he said was really all I wanted to hear from him.

"Szeretlek," he said. _I love you._

The word hung in the air between us for a moment that was unfortunately broken by the official who had finally made her way to us and was standing behind George.

"You two are next," the woman with the clipboard said. "Get ready." He jumped and turned to look at her. He nodded and I could see the anxiety he was feeling in every muscle of his body. I wished I could say something that would make it easier for him.

"Good luck." I said aloud in English. He turned back to me and smiled, though his eyes were sad. I could read his thoughts and knew that he took the fact that I had not returned the Hungarian declaration as some kind of sign of my feelings for him, even though he thought I didn't know what it meant.

George started to follow the official toward the stage, and I stayed a half step behind him.

I knew he couldn't hear my whisper or read my lips as we walked together, as both of our eyes were turned forward. So, I said it over and over, with each step so even my breath was muffled by the squeak of our shoes on the linoleum floor. "Szeretlek, George," I said, barely aloud. "Szeretlek. Szeretlek..."


	15. Chapter 15: Love at Second Sight

Chapter 15 - Love at Second Sight

"If you ask me, it was obviously some kind of fix. Or else the judges were all such morons they couldn't even understand your project, that's the only explanation." Jake had been ranting about the gross unfairness of George and my receiving an honorable mention for a good twenty minutes as we roamed the New Hampshire forests together. I could only imagine how difficult it was to keep running in his human form, yet he had plenty of breath to disparage everything from the winner's submission to the judges hair styles. His indignation was almost as refreshing as the cool mountain air. It was nice to hear someone else talk about how much our project had deserved to win top honors, even if I had a host of reasons for being happy we hadn't won.

Now the family could put our Plan B into action. Just about the only detail left was to deal with a fake name for the scholarship that we'd set up. What should we call the fund that would pay for the four years of George's undergraduate studies? I wanted to use Manet, but worried that would be too suspicious.

Would George even remember our conversation about _A Tale of Two Cities_? Had that conversation ever meant anything to him? How much longer would I mean anything to him?

Soon enough my family and I would be in an entirely new place with different identities. My parents and aunts and uncles and I would continue to play teenagers, trapped in the illusion of adolescence while he went on to bigger and better things, met new people, fell in love again. It was how it should be, but my heart ached to think of becoming just a bittersweet memory to him. I was sure he'd always be more than that to me.

"Ness," Jake's voice was a gentle whisper, in contrast to the angry growl he had used while berating the Siemens judges. "Did you still want to hunt?" He gazed at me, slightly worried. I realized I'd been running alongside him not paying any attention. I hadn't even altered course to follow the trail of a luscious catamount we had passed by a few moments before.

I smiled at my friend, glad that I could just be honest with him, instead of sticking to the excuse I had given my family. "I guess I just really wanted some fresh air," I said to him. "I hope you don't mind. We can certainly focus on hunting if you're hungry."

"No, I'm fine," he replied. His pace waned a little, and I slowed to match him. Before too long, we were walking though the bracken like ordinary humans out on a nature walk, though we were far off any trail a human would be on.

"I love the way the earth smells this time of year, when the snow's gone, but the streams are still full of runoff," I said aloud. I wasn't sure what made me share such a lame thought.

Jake's grin stretched and his eyes widened as if I had just said something so interesting and profound he couldn't believe it. "It's my favorite time of year, too," he said.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"What?" he said.

"Don't be like that, Jake," I responded.

"Like what?" His eyes were innocent, but I was sure he knew what I meant.

Rather than respond with words, I took a few steps closer to him, and mock slapped his face as if I was pissed at him. Rather than follow through on the swing, I left my palm on his cheek and played back memories of when I knew he was only telling me what he thought I wanted him to say. I added aloud, "I want a friend, not a puppet. You already told me that your favorite time of year is the fall when all the animals are fattened up and tasty and you can play games with the hunters." I knew I didn't need to use my gift to convince him of my sincerity, but sometimes it was easiest to get my point across that way.

Jake took my hand from his face and squeezed it in his. We both stared at our intertwined fingers, mine delicate and pearly white, his huge and brown. The warmth of his touch spread from the hand he clasped all over my body. It was all at once familiar and strange.

"I'll always be your friend, Ness," he said. I looked up into his dark eyes. It was true, he had always been my best friend, and was always there for me in whatever way I needed. And, right now, I needed to talk about the still sharp pain of falling in love and having to walk away before that emotion could blossom.

I broke my gaze from my friends face and noticed a tiny clearing with a small boulder that had received an unequal share of sun and warmth from the dappled forest sunlight. He followed my line of sight and led the way, then brushed the mostly dry leaves from the top and lifted me to sit in the most comfortable part of the rock. He climbed up next to me put his arm around me. We sat for a while without saying anything, warmed by the bright sun and each other's silent company.

I thought about what it meant to have Jake as a friend, which led to the memory I had been carefully avoiding. I still wasn't sure what to make of his reaction to when I shared my early thoughts of George with Jake. I realized that I had been keeping my friend shut out of what I'd been going through.

"I know you know," I said, staring off into the fragrant woods, rather than looking at him. We didn't keep secrets; I'd just been careful with how much detail I'd shared with Jake about my feelings for George.

"You mean, I know that you're in love with your science project partner," he replied. I appreciated that he was being straight-forward and sincere for a change. No playing around or avoidance, just stating the truth.

"Yes, that I love George." I paused, not knowing where I wanted to go next. "Does it bother you?"

"It bothers me that you're hurt," he said.

I wondered if he was editing more out, but decided not to push it. It was time to really open up. I wanted to share all the things that were weighing on my heart, but I kept hidden for my family's sake. "It does hurt," I said. "But, I'm still glad I met him. I'm glad I fell in love with him, even if I can't ever tell him so. What's weird is that I'm not sure why I'm glad about it. Love isn't nearly as nice as they try to make it sound in all the books and songs. I haven't told anyone else this, but George actually told me that he loved me."

"He did?" Jake said, obviously surprised.

I nodded and continued. "Only because he didn't think I'd understand him. I'm glad he said it, but in a way I'm even more happy that he has no idea that I know he did. I'm not sure if I'd even want him to know I love him back if I could tell him. Having him love me felt wonderful, but it also felt like I was being torn apart when I heard him say it. It felt good and it hurt all at once." I took a few breaths before continuing, feeling the joy of love with each inhale and the pain of it with each breath out. "If I try to think about it logically, it would be better if we never came to New Hampshire, and I never went to that school."

I could feel Jake shaking his head as a small tremor where our bodies met. "You can't just stay hidden away and never meet anyone or feel anything except for your family, Ness," he said. "That wouldn't be living."

I thought about that. He was right, of course.

Jake shifted his position on the rock. Our bodies were no longer connected. I turned my head and saw that his gaze was fully fixed on my face. "Can I ask you something important, Renesmee?" he said.

I nodded.

All of the usual wicked humor was absent from his face. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly before speaking again. "I have to ask you, and this isn't any puppet speaking, so I want an honest answer... Are you still upset about your mom and me?"

I returned his gaze and considered, wanting to give him the honesty he had requested. I thought about the sickening feeling I had when I realized that my best friend and my mom had a history I hadn't understood. But, there had been so much I didn't understand then. In a way, it made sense that they had never told me. Trying to explain that part of their past before I was ready would have been like trying to explain Stephen Hawking's theories to a human six-year old. I might have read advance science books when I was six, but I now realized there were some kinds of intelligence that I'd have to learn later in life, through experience.

"No," I answered, and his mouth turned up slightly at the corners. Odd, I had never really noticed the shape of his mouth before. He had lovely full lips that slid softly over his perfect white teeth; his smile shone brightly out of his dark skinned face. I returned his grin. "That tantrum I threw was pretty silly now that I think about it. I understand you all had lives before I came along."

"I'm glad you think it was silly now," he said. "Because, you know that's all in the past. Everything changed for all of us the moment I saw you."

"Really?" I whispered.

"Really," he replied.

Our faces were inches apart and I could feel his breath fall on my lips as I stared at his. My heart was beating fast, though I hadn't noticed when my pace had started to speed up. The joy and pain I had been describing before were still part of every pulse, but there was something else besides George that was creeping into my mind and heart. It was as if those feelings had been waiting like a dormant seed, planted before I was even born. And now, though my tears had been cried for someone else, the water had nurtured something else into being.

My best friend and I were facing each other in the quiet forest. The small golden shaft of sunlight wasn't what changed what I saw in his face. My heart had changed, and it was as if he had been patiently waiting for me to be able to understand what was in his heart.

Love didn't come just once in a life time. I wondered how many other times, for how many other people, love came through a broken heart. But that question disappeared from my mind when Jake's lips met mine. My second love, but my first kiss. And it was perfect.


	16. Chapter 16: Goodbye and Good Luck

Chapter 16: Goodbye and Good Luck

I was surprised at first at how easily everyone in the family accepted the change in Jake and my relationship. But it didn't take long for me to realize that Dad must have seen it coming. He'd known about Jake's love long before I had, and obviously accepted it. They'd all just been waiting for the inevitable, and I was the child finally waking up to the reality. I wasn't angry about it anymore, though. How could I be upset when, for me, growing up meant stepping into a fairy tale of true love? Most girls had to give up the dream of a prince charming when they got older. My prince was not only real, he'd been waiting for me patiently for years, and our happily ever after could go on forever.

The kiss Jake and I shared in the forest changed how I felt about him, and how I felt about myself. I even found myself walking differently. Loving Jake also made it slightly easier to live up to the promise I had made to my family: that I would never reveal that I loved George.

But, still, my feelings for George didn't just disappear. We remained friends. We still worked together on our normal assignments for Chemistry class. When our work was done each day, we talked about our college plans - mine fictional, his real. Every once in a while, we would whisper our name to each other in Hungarian, him thinking I couldn't hear him, me knowing he couldn't hear me.

Jake understood that I still loved George, which made me love Jake even more. I couldn't believe how lucky I was to have two such extraordinary people in my life. Though I couldn't be completely honest about my feelings to George, I didn't have to hide anything from my best friend, now my boyfriend, my soul mate, Jake.

It took me by surprise when George approached me as I was waiting for a ride home one sunny afternoon. "Where are your brothers and sisters?" the familiar voice said from behind me. I turned and looked into George's brown eyes, which were uncharacteristically bright and excited. I got lost for a moment in his gaze, and didn't respond at first. The rest of my family was hiding from the dazzling weather, and I had convinced them that I could be trusted to go to school by myself. Jake was happy enough to chauffeur me and would be pulling up on his motorcycle any second.

"Oh," was my brilliant attempt at stalling. "They all had food poisoning. Luckily I'm the only one who hates sushi." I tried to make it sound like a joke, and George shared one of his rare and brilliant smiles with me and my breath caught. "You look happy today," I noted.

"I just got some good news," he said.

"What was it?" I asked, feigning innocence, though I was pretty sure I knew what he was going to say.

"I got a full scholarship to Dartmouth!" he exclaimed, and I beamed with him. "There was an alum from Eastern Europe who set up a special fund for anyone who was born outside of the U.S."

"That's great! But I'm sure you could have gotten any scholarship." I gave him one of my mock punches on the shoulder, my fingers tingled at the contact. "I told you not to be upset about getting honorable mention at Siemens."

His smile faltered a little at the reminder of that near miss, but only for a moment. "Do you know where you're going, yet?" His good mood had clearly made him more sociable. He hardly ever tried this hard to engage in a conversation, even after all the time we had spent together.

"Yes," I said. I heard the distant familiar hum of a motorcycle taking a turn with reckless speed, but kept talking, even though I knew I should wrap up the conversation. "I'll be going to U Cal. I thought a big school would be best since I'm not really sure what I want to major in." And, I thought silently, might as well say I'll be going across country to a sunny state. In truth, the family was going back to Alaska, where Grampa Carlisle's old hospital was waiting to take him back after his sabbatical. All part of the original plan. My first foray into the human world was for one year only. I was sad to see high school come to an end, but in some ways looking forward to not having to pretend all the time.

"Wow," he said. "So far away. We should make sure we have each others..." he trailed off and his eyes grew large as the roar of a motorcycle grew louder, and I turned my head at the sound of screeching brakes.

"Hey, Ness!" Jake called. He straddled the bike carelessly, wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, looking like a russet skinned version of James Dean with far more muscles. The girls that were hanging around on the sidewalk all stared with their mouths hanging open, and the boys were looking from Jake to me with frustrated expressions.

"Who's that?" George asked. He looked like he had before we were about to go on stage at the competition, like he was going to be physically ill.

"Umm..." I realized there was no reason to soften the blow, and really no way to do so even if I wanted to. "That's my boyfriend, Jake. He's my ride today."

"Oh," said George. He looked at Jake. Jake stared back, smiling at both of us and perfectly at ease. It wasn't very often I was irritated with him, but I wished at that moment that he was a little more like George: shy and uncertain of himself. But when Jake nodded subtly to me, encouraging me to take as much time as I needed, smiling his good natured smile, I was glad that he was exactly who he was.

"I guess you'd better go," said George. The disappointment in his voice broke my heart.

"Yeah, I've got to go check on the sick ward at my house." I smiled, trying to lighten the mood. I couldn't bear to walk away from George while he was in this state of mind. "I hope you have something better planned for the rest of your day. Are you and your family celebrating the news?"

He shrugged and I wanted to cry for the look on his face. I guessed that there wouldn't be much of a celebration at all. I also realized this might be one of the last times we really talked to each other. Graduation was only a few short weeks away, and he seemed to be reverting before my eyes to the anti-social version of himself that he was around most everyone but me. Though I knew it was a mistake, that both of us would regret it later, I had to do something.

"I'll be there in a second, Jake," I called, then turned back to my friend and my first love. I threw my arms around George in a big hug before he could see it coming and shield himself from my affection. "Sveretlek" I said clearly, right into his ear. He stiffened in my arms and stopped breathing for a second.

"What did you say?" he gasped as I pulled away. His expression was shocked, yet happy. I hoped that a small part of him believed the literal truth of my words and not the cover story I had to give him next.

"Good luck," I replied. "Sveretlek - Did I remember it right?"

His eyes clouded for a moment, and I could see the memory of that afternoon in the competition, along with all the other hours we had spent together, every word that passed between us run through his mind. He pulled off something like a smile, but I could tell how difficult it was. I was struggling just as hard to keep my own phony grin in place.

"Perfect," he replied. "That sounded perfect."

"Thanks for teaching me," I said, then added "I'll never forget anything I learned from you, George. I owe you a lot."

He shrugged his usual dismissal of praise. "I'm sure you could have done it on your own." He looked away before continuing, "I'm sorry I ever doubted that."

I laughed at the memory of that first class and his assumption that I would only want to copy his work. I had been so sure there was nothing this silly human boy knew that I didn't. "I definitely couldn't have done it on my own, George," I replied. He still wasn't looking at me. "Hey," I said, tapping his arm in a playful way. "Do me a favor, okay?"

"What?" he asked, finally facing me again.

"When you're at college, telling all the new people you meet about all the brilliant things you've done," his eyebrows raised in protest, but I continued, "leave out that your partner in the Siemens competition was a spoiled brat."

"I'd never talk about you that way," he said, seriously.

I smiled. "And I'll tell everyone I got extremely lucky on my first day of senior year and got an empty seat next to the best Chemistry partner on the planet. I tell Jake how awesome you are all the time."

For some reason that made him look a little afraid. He started and looked back at Jake. I did the same and wondered what I'd said wrong. Jake's easy smile was still in place, but I could see by the tension in his shoulders he was getting impatient. The school parking lot was emptying out.

"Goodbye, George," I said.

"Goodbye, Nessie," he replied.

I walked away and quickened my pace as I got closer to Jake. He opened his arms and I fell into them, even though he was still on the bike. He patted my hair gently and nuzzled my neck, then whispered, "You okay, hon?"

I pulled back and took the helmet that was hanging from his handlebars. "Yeah," I said. "I just wanted to say goodbye and wish him luck." Jake nodded and I got on behind him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

My heart was only half human, so I had no way of knowing if it were possible for anyone else to feel like this. Perhaps no one else could hold in their hearts both the pain of lost love and the joy of requited love at the same moment the way my half-vampire heart beat out the rhythm of joy and pain. I felt both extremely lonely and extremely lucky.

Jake kicked the bike to life and we speeded away. I watched the image of George grow smaller in the tiny mirror clipped to the handlebars until he disappeared from vision. As sure as I was that I would be with Jake forever, that I would love him completely forever, there was also a part of me that would love someone else, even after he no longer existed.


End file.
